Assassin's Touch
by Shezka Foxe
Summary: Zevran had to watch his Grey Warden die for the "greater good". Nine years later his heart remains untouched, but what of this dark brooding elf called Fenris? Is is the start of something new, or just another heartbreak?
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I absolutely LOVED Dragon Age Origins! Especially Zevran since he was a flirt through the entire game. Then I started playing Dragon Age II and along comes Fenris….*gives a happy sigh* I swear I died and went to heaven when he came out of nowhere. I was upset though Dragon Age II made Zevran look ugly when he was absolutely gorgeous in Origins. Then a thought occurred to me, and I think no one has done it before….why not combine the two?_

Life would be much easier if Nuncio had kept to his daydreams of glory. Continued on believing the former Crow Taliesin had been sent out to kill had died. Unfortunately for both Antivans, this was not the case. Once the Archdemon had been thwarted by the legendary Grey Warden word of a Crow gone rogue reached the Guild. So now, Nuncio was on his tail once again. Once more Zevran picked up dagger and great sword, dawned his armor, and fled to Kirkwall to seek refuge. There among the poverty stricken, refugees of the blight, and slaves passing from hand to hand he was quite positive he could hide.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Zevran flew through the caverns of Sudermount, coming to a close brush with death when he slid along a cliff edge trying to make if for the exit. His leather armor was streaked with dirt and blood, one of his braids had come undone and hair kept getting his face. His lungs burned drawing in breath before it was forcibly pounded from his body. He did not know the name of the tree like creature that had attacked him. What was it? A Varettal? He couldn't even pronounce the name of the accursed beast.

Glancing back doorway he had come from, Zevran heard this "Hawke" person coming after him. At first he had assumed, like his Warden, Hawke was there to help him. Without a second thought the assassin had dropped his guard and fought alongside Hawke. Often times getting slammed to the side or punched in the gut by the damn thing before managing to scramble away at the last second.

To be honest, the beast had done the most damage. The battle had gone one far longer than Zevran had anticipated. The Dalish Elves had told him to tread carefully when he decided to hide in the cave. When the battle was over, he had expected at the very least a "thank you" from Hawke. Instead, he had been told at arrow point to follow him timidly back to Nuncio to be turned in for gold. For a moment Zevran had stood there completely stunned by the announcement. Then he did what any rational person would.

Spat in the bastard's face.

"Braska." Zevran hissed his foot dangling for moment over the edge before he pulled his leg back. He tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes as he listened for Hawke. It sounded as if they weren't far behind as he lurched to his feet and stumbled as he darted towards a secret entrance. He had made a mental lap of the entire cavern in case Nuncio had hired any bounty hunters to pursue him.

Zevran's escape route consisted of nothing more than a crack in the rock face. Set so far in the shadows one could walk right past it without ever knowing it was there. Most people would probably not even notice unless they knew it was there to begin with. Zevran had come across it by accident and for the last couple of weeks had been using it as a means to leave the cave. From time to time he made a point of leaving through the main entrance of the cave to accept supplies of food and clothes from the Dalish.

Lying flat on his belly in the dirt, Zevran pushed himself into the small opening. No one would be able to see from the thick foliage unless Hawke suddenly decided to have a bonfire to drive out any other unwanted critters ready to bite his head off. Just as he managed to pull his boots into the opening, Zevran heard Hawke begin talking to companions again.

"I saw him run into here. Maybe he's hiding?" Said a young voice. A girl, by the sound of it. She sounded innocent and naïve to Zevran, someone you would want to tell the whole world was made up of nothing but clouds and kittens. He tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the idea, since Howl had given him the same impression.

"Sure. We'll probably find him crouched in a tree ready to pounce on us from above. Hope he doesn't have wings." Replied a deep voice which Zevran recognized with a sneer. Some damn dwarf who seemed to be under the impression naming his weapon Bianca would give it power. It had been the same dwarf who had pointed that damn crossbow as Hawke told him he was taking him in. Only by ducking behind Hawke had he managed to elude the arrow aimed at him.

"You don't really think he has wings, does he? Then he wouldn't be an elf at all." The girl replied, actually sounding worried. Zevran smirked despite himself since she sounded so cute. As he crawled through the dirt towards the glimmer of light in the dark, he remembered the first words he had ever exchanged with Howl.

When he awoke, Zevran was surprised to know he was alive. Equally so he was shocked to see a curious face peering down at his own. Light blue eyes hidden by spectacles pushed up the bridge of his nose. The robes of a mage clothed a slim frame and even sagged a bit in some places. What, to Zevran's astonishment appeared to be a…was that a tree branch? On the mage's back. His hair was black and pulled back into a tight braid, a few wisps of hair having escaped and touching his cheeks.

"Howl, I wouldn't recommend being so close to our would-be-killer. He probably has a trick or two up his sleeve, even tied up as he is." Said a stern looking woman, lingering near the mage. She also sported what appeared to be a tree branch strapped to her back. In front of Zevran the mage turned his head to reply to the woman.

"He's tied up, isn't he? If he tries anything, I'll toss him into the river." The mage said with such certainty Zevran felt laughter bubble out from his mouth. It escaped him unexpectedly, because he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so easily. The mage's head whipped back, eyes widening in astonishment. His ears were long and pointed. Aw, so an elven mage. How quaint.

"You might want to take her advice, I may just jump you when you least expect it." Zevran teased the mage, who face was no more than a few foot away from his. As he was talking to the mage Zevran was already working a hand loose, planning on whipping his hand around and driving a hidden blade he kept in his sleeve into the young mage's neck.

"So you really were trying to kill me?" The mage asked. Zevran froze, staring at him in disbelief. Was this young elf for real? Did he not realize how many people cursed the title Grey Warden?

"Of course." Zevran said bluntly, seeing no way to charm his way out of this situation. At least, nothing that came to mind. To his surprise the Warden's face crumbled, the corners of his eyes tearing up.

"Why do you hate me so much?" The mage asked, a sob caught in his throat. Zevran was completely shocked, he had no idea what to say. Did the Warden truly expect a truthful answer?

"I don't hate you. I took a contract." Zevran said, his voice softening automatically to soothe the mage. A surprised expression crossed the other elf's face before his features softened. A small smile played over the mage's face as he straightened up. And thus, Zevran became acquainted with the mage Howl. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I don't think there are a lot of Zevran/Fenris pairings out there. But if you think about their personalities, they actually balance each other out. Review if I should continue the story or toss it away!_


	2. A Fool

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I've been doing nothing but thinking of how Fenris is Danarius's "little wolf." Actually, Fenris is a mythical character who is supposed to be the wolf god. I believe his actual name is "Fenrir" which I find fascinating. Alright, on with the story. And thank you for all the reviews last chapter! I wasn't expecting to get so many so I decided to update a bit early as thanks. ^_^_

Zevran took a deep breath of fresh air when he finally crawled out from the small tunnel. He imagined he heard a soft pop when he came out near the edge of the cliff. Below him he had a clear view of the Wounded Coast stretching out before him. For a moment the assassin paused and leaned up against the rock wall, gazing at the sky. Such a shame for it to be so beautiful a day and him running for his life.

Below him the waves gently lapped a pristine beach. Zevran fancied he could see dolphins playing beneath the waves. The currents of the ocean whispering its greatest secrets to its children as it flowed. He let out a soft sigh, easing his wounded side down gently so he was laying down. Zevran blinked lazily up at the sky blearily thinking he would only close his eyes for a moment. Very soon he was fast asleep, the hard packed earth beneath him the softest ground he had ever felt.

…

"I doubt he lingered for you to conveniently catch him. Your crow may have flown far past the Wounded Coast by now. Or do you expect to find him waiting for you?" Said a deep voice. Zevran jerked awake, for moment confused as to where he was. Hadn't he just been in Ferelden with Howl? As the reality of the situation he slowly came to remember where he was. Above him the sky was pale, stars beginning to appear in the coming night sky. The air had grown colder since night had begun to fall. Wearily sitting up, Zevran reached for his knife as his waited to see who had spoken. It took him another second the voice was coming from below, down on the beach.

"He was injured when he ran. Anders said with those wounds he would lucky to walk let alone run. I know he's hiding out somewhere near here, I just have no idea where." Replied Hawke.

Fenris shook his head, eyes narrowing as the sky darkened for signs of someone fleeing. They had searched the cave from top to bottom, but other than a few smears and drops of blood no sign of the assassin. Fenris had gone down to the beach to search with Hawke but there were still no signs of their convict. Not even a footprint of any sort other than that of the wild animals that wandered the beach at night. Hawke let out a heavy sigh, turning his head to squint up at Sudermount. His black hair trailed down his shoulders and shifted every time he turned his head. After a few minutes he sighed, turning around dark blue eyes meeting Fenris's.

"I'm heading back to my estate. Would you mind keeping watch for the night in case he comes back?" Hawke asked Fenris. Fenris glanced at the Champion, nodding silently. Hawke gave him a gracious smile since had been doing errands for others the past couple of weeks.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you. I'll be sure to send Merriell and Isabela out to relieve you in a few hours." Hawke said gratefully before turning around to head back to Kirkwall. Fenris watched the mage go as he began to think of way _he_ would escape the cavern.

Injured. Alone. Nowhere else to go except to the Dalish and they claimed they had not seen the assassin. Fenris wasn't inclined to believe them, but he hadn't seen any signs of a person being healed within the campsite. As he turned to walk back down the beach he spotted movement on the Cliffside. Fenris paused, pretending to be study ocean as he secretly scanned for the movement.

He spotted it again, a flash of golden hair as a figure appeared to be struggling down the sheer cliffs. So, their assassin apparently had escaped the caves though not unscathed. Now Fenris caught the scent of freshly spilled blood. Sickly sweet on the evening air as he spotted the figure again slide down in a small shower of rocks. He could barely be heard over the sound of the waves, and appeared to be quietly berating himself for the noise. Fenris narrowed his eyes, drawing his sword as he pulled close to the rock to hide.

Zevran didn't notice he was bleeding until he felt a warm trickle going down his leg. When he paused in his descent, to his horror there were smears of blood leading all the way down to where he was. He cursed silently, removing his armor to tear off his tunic. With deft hands he ripped the stained cloth into strips which he used to bind the wound. He knotted his makeshift bandages tightly to staunch the bleeding, but soon the blood had soaked through that was well. If he left the wound untreated for too long there was a high chance of it becoming infected.

"Where's a healer when you need one?" Zevran muttered to himself. Jerking tight the final knot before reaching over to grab his armor. The hard leather would chafe his exposed skin, but he would rather be warm rather than face the cold. As he began to secure the straps of his armor he heard the soft shift of sand underfoot. Zevran froze, his senses sharpening to hear the sound again. There, the soft pad of feet approaching.

Drawing is last weapon, his old Crow Dagger, Zevran turned to face his attacker. Going into a low crouch to make himself a smaller target as he moved away to put the rock face against his back. A few moments of intense silence passed where nothing but the cries of birds reached the former assassin's ears. Just as Zevran was beginning to think perhaps he had made the sounds himself _he_ appeared.

No more than ten paces away from where he crouched stood a dark figure. Only his light hair reflecting the moonlight had given him away. Zevran nearly jumped out of his skin, he hadn't even heard him! A sword hung limply in the intruder's hand, which was nearly as big as he was. Silver vine tattoos wrapped around his arms traveling upward until they reached his neck and chin. The two stood there, regarding each other until one spoke.

"You're bleeding." Fenris stated, his eyes roving over Zevran. He had expected a more sinister looking killer by the way Nuncio had talked of him. Hawke had asked him to wait near the entrance of the cave in case the killer slipped past him to make an escape. Not this…injured creature.

Dark hazel eyes challenged forest green as the assassin gritted his teeth. Damn, he felt light headed. He hadn't even heard the other elf approach him! Blood continued to leak from his leg, pooling around his feet in a spreading stain. Zevran was beginning to see double and it felt if the ground beneath him was lurching beneath him. He dug his boots into the sand as if it would keep him from toppling over.

"No doubt the work of your precious Hawke. So, did he send you to drag me back and lay me before his feet? I did offer for him to tie me up and manhandle me, but he refused." Zevran teased, his grip tightening on the hilt of his dagger. The dark elf had suddenly turned into three as he tried to keep his focus. He was failing fast, if he didn't get rid of this new threat soon he would pass out.

"In that state? You would die long before I even touched you." Fenris snapped, annoyed with the flirtatous elf. Zevran, was his name? Soon the other would pass out without him having to do anything. Still, to turn him when he was in this condition…

"Oh? You like the look me, yes? Your rather enticing yourself aren't you, my light haired friend?" Zevran purred. Under his sarcastic façade he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He didn't want to fall asleep again to wake up in a cage. Maybe if this one was willing…

Fenris coughed in surprise, catching the innuendo. He glared at Zevran who smirked in response, raising his dagger in challenge. Fenris lifted his sword easily to point it at the other elf. Seeing the sharp instrument instead of being put off Zevran just threw back his head and laughed.

"Either you're out of your mind or a fool. I can't decide which." Fenris said his eyes narrowing. Zevran caught his breath, a chuckle or two causing his shoulders to shake.

"Some of have gone out of their way to call me a fool. You may call me a dead man." Zevran said, just as darkness descended upon him a second time. Smothering his senses and sending him to the fade.

When Zevran began to slump Fenris didn't even think about what he was doing. He darted forward and caught the smaller elf, the limp body surprisingly light in his arms. Zevran's head lolled to the side against his arm. Strands of golden hair catching on his spiked arm as Fenris knelt to better accommodate the unconscious elf. He set Zevran down on his back, reaching to take the dagger out of his limp fingers. The other made no move except the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"A fool, then." Fenris said, noticing the bandaged leg. Zevran had lost an alarming amount of blood since his battle with the Varettal. Dried blood caked his armor and his right leg, not including the fresh blood congealing there. Fenris stood, scanning the beach until he spotted Nuncio's campsite. Several fires burned there as the men awaited news of Zevran's capture. Glancing back down at the elf it was hard to imagine he had killed their guild master. A fool or a dead man.

Taking one last look at the campsite, Fenris sheathed his sword and knelt to lift Zevran in his arms. He was no heavier than his own sword. Turning his back to Nuncio and his men, Fenris headed back to Kirkwall. A golden haired elf cradled in his arms.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Though it's my own fic, I find it hard to imagine Fenris doing this. Though, he does have his moments where you have to take a step back and take a second look at him. I try to be "realistic" when it comes to my fics, but I believe he would do such a thing. _


	3. Owl

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I so wanted to say this, but I HATED the epilogue for if the Warden dies if Zevran is in love with him. Never falling in love again? Poor Zev, I wanted to cry when I saw that. So yes, I will be switching from telling the story of how Zevran falls in love with Howl and falling for Fenris. But the DA Origins bits aren't what you'd expect, I do recommend reading them. ;)_

"Zevran."

"Howl."

"Zevran."

"Howl."

"….Zev?"

"Now what am I supposed to call you if you do that? Ho? Wol? Or maybe just Owl? Yes, I like Owl. From now on I shall call you Owl."

"ZEVRAN!"

"Owl!"

Howl glared at the Antivan assassin who just smirked back at him. It had been three weeks since he had joined this small band of misfit heroes. If they could be called that at the very least. They had been on the road the past couple of days headed for Denerim and the young elven mage seemed at the end of his rope with the other elf. A ways behind him Alistair was starting to smile, covering his mouth to keep from laughing at Howl's reaction. Being the smallest (and in Zevran's opinion the weakest also) of the group, Howl always seemed to on edge to prove himself. He couldn't fly into battle with the others, instead having to hang back casting mediocre spells to weaken their enemies. Even Howl's Mabari, Shigure, was stronger than he was. The hound served as the mage's personal guard in battle while the others cracked skulls and cleaved limbs.

"Don't call me Owl. It's a stupid nickname." Howl scowled, his spectacles sliding to the end of his nose again. With a haggard sigh he shoved them back up again which caused Zevran to laugh. Earning him another glare from the mage as behind him Alistair was practically stuffing his fist into his mouth. Morrigan had remained silent the entire time their banter had gone back and forth. When she heard this last comment, however, a cruel smile crossed her lips as she laughed as well.

"It fits you. With those huge glasses you wear all the time, no wonder he would call you Owl." Morrigan said with glee. Howl paused in the middle of the road when she said this. Zevran stopped as well, his brow furrowing at the comment. Alistair's shoulders were still shaking and he began taking ragged breaths to stifle his giggling as the witch continued.

"Morrigan, I can't see anything without these! It's not as if I have any choice." Howl said, his voice cracking a bit on the last part. Zevran recognized that look on the mage's face. As if someone had come over and told them they hated him.

"Then you truly are useless. How reassuring for a Grey Warden to unable to see, and an Owl to boot." Morrigan said while studying her nails. Howl's eyes widened behind his glasses at the comment. Alistair at that moment chose to finally burst out laughing which just added fuel to the fire. Zevran began to laugh too, but the laughter died in his throat when he saw Howl look helplessly between his companions. Without a word the elven mage spun on his heel and proceeded to the back of the caravan where Sten and the mabari were. Zevran stared after him, surprised and feeling vaguely guilty.

Zevran had learned early on Howl was…sensitive to say the least. Morrigan described the mage as a "crybaby" with a sneer. Which usually ensued with Alistair arguing with her in his companion's defense and ending with Morrigan threatening to turn him into a toad. At first, he had assumed the same of the mage when he began to notice a pattern. Howl didn't so much as "cry" as look hurt when the others took a stab at him. Usually he remained silent, petting Shigure's head or going over to Sten as if he expected the Quanari to comfort him. Sten did neither, silent as always observing the others. It was more as if Howl wasn't sure how to respond to other people rather than opting for playing the weak card.

With a sigh Zevran followed him, having to hurry up to catch up with the mage. When he caught up he saw Howl walking in between his hound and Sten. When the younger elf caught sight of the assassin his eyes shifted in the other direction, refusing to meet his gaze. Zevran let out a soft sigh, approaching the young warden.

"Listen, Howl, I-"

"Go away, bastard." Howl hissed, shooting him a glare. Beside him Shigure growled as his ears pressed against his skull. Zevran stopped, glancing up at Sten. The Quanari was watching him silently and he had to wonder if maybe Sten and Howl were closer than he first thought. He sighed, turning his back to the trio as he went back to join Alistair and Morrigan.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry." Zevran tossed over his shoulder before walking off. He tried not to smile himself as he caught a glimpse of the dumbfounded look on the mage's face. Yes, winning him over should be quite simple, yes?

…

When Zevran awoke for a second time he expected to see the Maker. Instead it was dark, and he felt warm. As if he'd been wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. When he tried to move he found he was partially right. Several heavy wool blankets and quilts had been piled on top of him and tucked around his sides. When he tried to sit up pain lanced up his right side causing him to grit his teeth to keep from crying out.

He reluctantly lay back against his pillows, finding an abundance of them tossed haphazardly around a bed that could have fit at least three Quanari with room to spare. Zevran swiveled his head around, trying to get a glimpse of his surroundings. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he saw he was in a large room.

Cobwebs decorated the ceiling, thick in the corners where the spiders conspired with one another. Moldering book cases with half rotten tomes stuffed into their shelves were around the room. Along with several large chests open with their contents strewn about or torn beyond redemption. Zevran momentarily wondered if perhaps he was dreaming when the door across the room open. Squinting, he managed to make out a figure standing there. Upon recognizing who it was he shot straight up, biting his tongue to withstand the liquid fire licking up his side.

Fenris strolled into the room, unarmed save for his tattoos and metal gauntlets as he approached the bed. Zevran watched him with a mixture of apprehension and tension, muscles taught despite the fact he could barely move from his injuries. Fenris stopped at the foot of the bed, continuing to study the weak elf. Zevran glared at him from the bed his early flirtatious nature gone.

"You did offer." Fenris said finally. When Zevran gave him a quizzical look he nodded to something attached to the elf's wrist. Glancing down, Zevran noticed a manacle with a chain attached to the head board. When he looked at his other wrist, it was the same thing. That was it. He was a prisoner.

Glancing at his captor, Zevran let out a cold laugh. He felt sick to his stomach, seeing those chains. So this was how it was to be, was it? Then fine. He knew one day someone would catch up with him. His pension for good luck couldn't last forever, could it?

"I suppose I did, didn't I? So, which is it? Are you to be on top or am I?" Zevran asked with a snarky grin as he clenched his fists. Fenris regarded him with deep green eyes as he came closer to the assassin. He could see the tension in the knotted muscles of the other elf. Black swirls wrapped around his chest and arms, traveling down to below the blankets.

"I hardly think your worth the trouble." Fenris said, which caught the blond elf off guard. Zevran tilted his head up to get a better look at the dark skinned elf, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Oh, truly? I've been told I'm very much worth the problems I bring to any doorstep. Especially if I happen to bring them to bed with me. Chains and a bed? What ideas of fun you must have, yes?" Zevran whispered quietly, lowering his eyelids appreciatively. As if gazing at Fenris sent him into spasms of ecstasy. Fenris, on the other hand, was glaring at the blond elf as if he had lost his mind. In his mind Zevran was steeling himself to what he knew was to come. It wasn't so different, really, pretending to enjoy an unwanted touch. Instead, Fenris snorted letting his gaze settle on one of the open chests as he spoke.

"I hardly find myself desperate enough to dive under covers with you. Forgive me if I find you as unattractive as your attitude." Fenris snapped bluntly as Zevran raised his eyes again to lock gazes with the lyrium elf. Hazel regarded forest green for a few heartbeats before one of them spoke.

"A shame, you're a dangerous creature. Makes one wonder why you don't have a line of broken hearts behind you. How would you describe as so unattractive? My past lovers were always more than sated with my results." Zevran replied, a smirk playing across his lips. Despite the panic coiling in his belly a small part of him was beginning to relax. He knew he shouldn't trust so easily as this, but by the scowl this dark elf was giving him he clearly wasn't about to resort to physical torture.

"Insufferable." Fenris snapped, causing Zevran to let out a surprised laugh. Fenris shot him a glare which just made the blond elf laugh all the more. Glaring worked to no effect either. Finally, Zevran managed to calm himself enough to tilt his head up, the soft skin of his throat glowing in the faint light. Fenris's eyes flicked to trail along the lines of the throat as he unconsciously licked his lips.

"I've been called many things in my time, but never that. You wound me, my dear friend."

"We're not friends."

"Oh? So our new found relationship is master and slave, yes?" Zevran asked teasingly. He enjoyed banter with those people who didn't know the dance of seduction. What happened in reaction to his words, however, he did not predict.

At the mention of 'master and slave' Fenris's cool demeanor snapped. His lyrium tattoos flared to life dragging him into the Fade. Within seconds it seemed to Zevran as if the chest nearest to the bed exploded. Wood shrapnel flew everywhere, a few lodging in the bookcases themselves. Thankfully, Zevran was protected by the thick pile of blankets on him. The next instant the dark elf was beside the bed, his eyes sparking with rage.

Zevran had seen nothing like it before. All he had seen was a flash of blue before it was as the dark elf had _disappeared_ then miraculously materialized beside him. However, he wasn't aware Fenris was next to him as his attention was still on the clear spot in the dust where the chest had been just a few seconds ago. Zevran was staring at the spot dumbfounded when he felt heat on the back of his neck. He tuned to see Fenris, tattoos still glowing with an intensity that burned his eyes.

Fenris reached to grab Zevran, his gauntlets appearing to be claws in the eerie light cast by his markings. Zevran flinched away when he saw those instruments of torture reaching for him. For a few moments he panicked, trying to get off the bed to run. His wrists strained against the manacles and he began to yank at them to no avail.

Seeing his prisoner hurting himself, instead of grabbing Zevran Fenris grabbed the chain closest to him. Giving it a hard yank Zevran fell back, banging his head with an audible thud against the headboard. Fenris caught his breath when he saw the blond elf sit up shaking, back pressed against the headboard. A trickle of blood stained the golden tresses and trailed down his bareback. He hadn't meant to hurt the injured elf. Hesitant, Fenris opened his mouth and then closed it. Zevran was braced against the headboard, watching him with guarded eyes now. All earlier seduction attempts gone. Finally, Fenris reach out, slowly this time, and grasped Zevran by the chin. Tilting his head up as he leaned over so their faces were inches apart.

"You don't know what it is to be slave. I suggest not making light of it in my presence." Fenris said, his voice calm now. He could hear the blond elf's pounding heart as they gazed at each other. Zevran nodded imperceptibly, Fenris only being able to notice it by the slight resistance to his hand.

Unsure of what else to say, Fenris let go and stepped away from the blond elf. He had questions for him, needed answers to questions he was sure the other elf to answer. While mentally berating himself for the stupidity of his actions. What had driven him to save him? Zevran cleared his throat, drawing the dark elf out of his thoughts who glanced at him.

"May I ask your name, at the very least? It's not fun being thrown around by my captor if I don't know what name to scream. Or should I just refer to you as 'Bob'?" Zevran asked, drawing a dark scowl from the elf. He tried to keep himself from smiling as the dark elf glared at him. Really, Fenris thought, did nothing shut this blond up?

"Fenris." Fenris answered bluntly, turning his back to the other elf. As he began to walk out of the room Zevran called back to him.

"Zevran, the pleasure is all mine Lord Fenris. You will visit me later, yes?" Zevran asked as Fenris stopped in the doorway to cast him one final, dark brooding glare. Zevran smiled, wondering if the other elf was trying to be dramatic on purpose.

"No." Fenris snapped, slamming the door behind him. He knew it, he should have just turned "Zevran" into Hawke. Now he was stuck with him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Fenris does have legitimate reasons for stealing away Zevran. I believe in the first chapter I mentioned I couldn't imagine him carrying away Zevran. Well, now I can. LOL I actually feel sorry for Fenris in this chapter since he has to deal with the snarky Zevran. But I was just so excited about starting a new story (especially with two hot, handsome elves to boot) I just HAD to post today! I hope you enjoyed this chapter just as much as I did. I swear, I was squealing with excitement the entire time I typed it. Thank you for the reviews! _


	4. Chamber Pot

AUTHOR'S NOTE:_ I was going to wait, but since I stayed home on President's Day on I'm going to be posting TWO chapters today instead of one! I worked really hard all day yesterday and managed to crack out about fifteen pages worth of typing. Got up to page thirty-one yesterday which surprised me. Usually I only ever get around to typing one thousand to two thousand words in a day. ^_^'  
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Fenris sat back in his chair, glowering at the fire as he grabbed another bottle of wine off the table. Tearing the cork off with his teeth he downed several large gulps of the fine vintage before putting it down with a sigh. Glancing back at the closed door where Zevran slept. After he had slammed the door shut he couldn't help wondering what the blond elf must think of him. A monster, perhaps, as Anders was so fond of calling him? Or was it "wild beast"? He had seen the terrified expression on Zevran's face when his lyrium tattoos had begun to glow. Yes, perhaps it was best he thought him a monster. Best for them both, actually.

While he didn't want to admit it he regretted scaring the other elf. Seeing him flinch from his touch was the worst. Then the compliant nature he showed when he'd grasped him by the chin. Zevran had been exhibiting the exact same behavior of an abused slave. While the blond had hid it well at the end by teasing him, he could see the shivering in Zevran's limbs as he called out to him. Clearly, he thought he would end up like the destroyed chest very soon.

Scowling at the wine, Fenris lifted it to his mouth again and took another swallow. He should have known better to control his temper. He was tired and annoyed, carrying Zevran all the way from the Wounded Coast to Kirkwall. While the other elf weighed about the same as his sword, the way you bore the weight clearly counted. By the time he had reached the damn mansion his arms were cramping and he nearly dropped Zevran on the front steps. Then he'd had to hunt down the pack Hawke had given him filled with linen bandages and ointments for when he was injured. He refused to be healed by Anders, who was more than willing to comply. Thankfully, Fenris hardly ever got injured as he'd removed Zevran's armor and bandaged him up.

Having secured the unconscious elf with chains to the bed, he had walked all the way back to the Wounded Coast to appear as if he had been looking for Zevran all the time. Fenris had been pissed when no sooner had he just arrived there when Merrill and Isabela had shown up. Then for the third time he had walked what seemed a very long, hard path home. His feet hurt, his head ached from staving off sleep, and now he had a sarcastic elf on his hands. Not to mention Hawke and the others had no idea he was harboring their payday for Nuncio. Could his day get any better?

…

"Howl."

Howl's head snapped up, his eyes widening behind his glasses when he saw who it was. The group had set up camp a few hours ago. Leliana was making a stew with Morrigan and both women were talking quietly. Alistair was, unsuccessfully, attempting to put up his tent with no help from Shigure who kept jumping on the whole mess with a few happy barks. Sten stood apart from the rest of the group watching the sunset. Howl had been hunched over a spell book, reading with intense focus as all this happened around him. Zevran had approached him meaning to talk to him, but when he saw those blue eyes gazing at him he wasn't sure what to say.

"Yes? Do you want something?" Howl asked, his voice slightly strained. All day he had been smarting from his earlier teasing. Avoiding the only other elf in the camp by staying with Sten the entire time. Zevran sighed, taking a seat next to Howl on the wolf pelt spread out beneath him. Howl automatically shifted away a few inches, glaring at the assassin as he slid a piece of parchment between the pages.

"About earlier-"

"You said you were sorry. I think you're a bastard. Now go away." Howl said promptly, moving to get up. Tired of being ignored Zevran reached up and grabbed a handful of the mage's robes, pulling him down to sit beside him.

"Stop being such a child! I only wanted to talk. If you don't want to talk, then simply listen." Zevran snapped, as Howl glowered at him. The mage nodded reluctantly as he crossed his legs, letting his book rest on his lap as he gave the assassin his undivided attention. Zevran sighed, taking a deep breath to start.

"As I said before, I am sorry. I meant it in jest, calling you Owl. I did not mean for it to turn out the way it did. As for the others, I believe they thought it nothing more than a joke between friends. So, will you forgive me now, yes?" Zevran asked him, steeling himself to be patient. Howl seemed to be mulling over what he had just been told. After a minute he sighed as well, turning his head to gaze at the fire.

"I'm no child, and fine. I forgive you. Is that it?" Howl asked in a bored tone. Zevran furrowed his brow, trying to sense the other elf's emotions. His shoulders were tense as if he expected to be hit. Howl reminded him of the new recruits the Antivan Crows would bring in off the streets or the whorehouse. Scrawny, underfed, their eyes shifting from side to side planning out an escape. He been that way once, when he had been small. Seeing the fear reflected in Howl's eyes softened Zevran a bit. This would be easy, treat him like a child. All he had to do was act as if he wasn't.

"I apologize my friend. I did not mean to offend you. How about I tell you about a story, yes? I get thrown out a window and walk home naked." Zevran suggested, his tone becoming light as he gave Howl a mischievous smile. Despite himself the corner of Howl's mouth twitched, as if he wanted to smile. His eyes lit up though at the suggestion.

"Go away, Zevran. I'm not sitting here for you to tell me a story." The younger elf stated, attempting to sound braver than he felt. When he got up and began to walk towards his tent, Zevran followed after him. With a sigh he stopped to turn around, book under his arm as he glared at the smirking assassin.

"Come now, you like stories, yes? I have seen all the books you read. Besides, it's your favorite, I get thrown in a river." Zevran teased, and this caught Howl's attention. When the mage opened his mouth to reply Zevran let out an exaggerated sigh, turning around and sauntering away.

"Alas, but if I do not have an audience why should I bother to tell my story? No one will listen and none shall care. I suppose I will simply sit in my corner and cry."

"ZEVRAN!"

"Howl."

"We're not starting that again. Now tell me the damn story."

So, Zevran told Howl his story. How he played a part in history by being thrown into a river, robbed by urchins, and was forced to return to the Crows naked.

…

Fenris jerked awake, nearly falling out of his chair as he did so. His head whipped around as he tried to get his bearings. On the floor was his former bottle of wine laying on its side in a drying puddle of its own vintage. Fenris cursed, because Hawke had given it to him as a thank you gift. It was some type of rare Ferelden brandy if he remembered correctly. Whatever it was, it had tasted like heaven and probably cost a fortune. Cursing under his breath, Fenris got out of chair. He had fallen asleep with his feet propped up on the table and his legs felt stiff as he bent them. His feet still ached from his long walk yesterday as he bent to pick up the bottle. When he straightened up Fenris had a vague recollection of a blond haired elf chained to a bed…

Shaking the image out of his head, Fenris sniffed the neck of the bottle. Wine still seemed good, so he tilted the bottle up and salvaged the last mouthful. Wiping his mouth with the back of his arm a name came to mind with blond hair. And blood.

_Zevran_.

With a jerk Fenris looked at the door. It was still solidly shut from where he slammed it yesterday, but juding by the bright light peaking in from the windows it was at least the middle of the afternoon. And the blond hadn't thought to complain? Then it came back to him. Zevran scared, acting compliant…Fenris smacked his forehead. Idiot! He should have known better than to try and care for an injured person. This was Anders department, not his! Setting the empty bottle down on the table, Fenris was resolved.

Get Zevran, take him to Hawke. He didn't need another headache in his life along with all the others. Hawke and Varric he could say he liked well enough, but he found the others utterly insufferable. Zevran on the other hand…was just Zevran. A disaster just waiting to happen.

Resolved, Fenris went over to the door. Pushing it open the room was pitch black save for a few streaks of lights sneaking in from the covered windows. Fenris squinted in the pale light, waiting for his eyes to adjust before going into the room. He saw a lump under the covers, but he saw no movements. He could hear a steady heartbeat in the room, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from. Edging into the room Fenris checked for traps.

As he took another step into the room he heard an audible snap. Something light felt as if it had broken against his armor. So slight he wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't seen the glint of golden hair to his right. Fenris spun, his hand coming up automatically to block the blow. Zevran had somehow managed to escape his bonds, and was now hefting up a broken chair leg to smack the other in the head. As he stepped back to catch the blow he felt something _hard_ hit him on top of the head.

There was a large crack as the object broke, a stinking concoction momentarily blinding him. Thrown off balance by the blow to his head, Fenris fell back with his hands up to block the object. He felt the heavy blow on his arm as Zevran tried with all his might to brain him. It bounced off, with surprisingly light resistance from himself. Fenris felt a small shock go up his arm, but other than that he was unharmed. However, whatever had been in the pot that hit him on the head smelled _awful_.

Reaching out blindly, Fenris felt his gauntlets catch on something and a yelp of surprise. Getting a firmer grip, he yanked it toward him. Zevran hit his chest, and both elves went sprawling in the liquid stink. Wrapping an arm around what he hoped was the blond elf's neck, Fenris swiped furiously at his eyes to clear the stuff. When he managed to finally see, he glanced down to see a struggling Zevran. Only a few feet away lay the broken chair leg and the broken remains of a chamber pot. Feeling slightly sick at this new knowledge about what was on him, he squeezed Zevran's neck for emphasis who gasped and struggled like a fish.

"You dumped _shit _and _piss _on me, Zevran." Fenris snarled, the stink making his eyes water. Zevran was only in brown trousers and a faded white renaissance shirt he must have found in the mansion. Where the brown liquid had absorbed into the fabric he could see the once clean linen bandages wrapped around the blond's waist and thigh. With a grunt his sat up, still keeping a choking Zevran in a headlock. When the blond's face began to turn blue as his stuck his tongue out trying to breath, Fenris loosened his hold a little. Zevran took in great gulps of breath, panting as if he expected his captor to choke him again. For a minute Fenris entertained the thought as punishment for his rude awakening. Logic won over irritation, however, when he heard pounding downstairs at his front door. Silently cursing under his breath, he got his feet under him hauling Zevran with him.

"Hang on! I'll be there in a minute!" Fenris bellowed in the general direction of the door. Thankfully, the pounding stopped and he heard a muffled yell in response. Ignoring it, he bent his head down to Zevran's who was still gulping in greedy breaths of air.

"You have no where to go. If you weren't for me you would be dead by now, your body eaten by the Tara'shock most likely. At the very least you owe me the benefit of the doubt I'm not planning on killing you." Fenris hissed into Zevran's ear. Zevran had gone quiet, his breathing slowing as he caught his breath. The other elf half turned his head to give him a withering glare before answering.

"You truly expect me to simply lay there and await my fate? I'm no docile maiden awaiting to be deflowered, my dear Fenris." Zevran said in such a light purr it threw Fenris for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to reply when he heard the pounding pick up again. Dammit, he should have remembered Donnic was coming over today!

"No one outside of this mansion knows you are here. Or I take it you wish to be handed over to Nuncio in your condition? By his tone he very much wanted you alive so he make you pay for the lives you took." Fenris hissed, keeping his voice low. Zevran ceased his struggling as he absorbed this new information. Fenris was right, he truly could go nowhere. If Hawke had been there he would certainly be tied up in a dungeon somewhere by now. Glancing back at his captor Fenris was glowering at him impressively. With a soft sigh, he waved his hand as if it was nothing more than a fly bothering him.

"Fine. I shall not kick and scream. For now." Zevran said conversationally as Fenris moved to stand up. Still keeping the smaller elf in a headlock, Fenris marched him to the bed. Laying there innocently were the manacles, wide open. Cursing, Fenris was about to release Zevran when a thought occurred to him.

All at once Fenris shoved Zevran away from him who stumbled in surprise, catching himself on the poster of the bed. When the former assassin spun around ready to defend himself, Fenris simply stood there. Arms crossed, old piss dripping from his hair as he stared at him. Didn't glare, didn't even narrow his eyes. Simply stood there waiting for Zevran to make a move. Finally, the assassin crossed his arms as well leaning up against the wall.

"Is this a staring contest, my friend?"

"We're not friends, Zevran. You wish to go? Then go. I'll enjoy seeing your body hanging in the Gallows on the morrow. Maybe even this evening if the city guard is quick enough." Fenris stated bluntly.

Zevran opened his mouth to argue when one of two things occurred to him. One, he was injured. Two, he had no armor or weapons. He had been lucky enough to find a shirt to wear shoved into an old vanity table in one of the other rooms. He hadn't wanted to kill Fenris, since he had gone to great measures to dress and clean his wounds. Closing his mouth he glared at the lyrium elf whose mouth was set in a thin line.

"I want nothing more from you than answers. Once I have that, you're free to go." Fenris said calmly. Zevran glanced at the open window behind him. It would only take him a moment to vault over the windowsill, slide down the roof, and make an escape back to Surdomount. On the other hand, simply setting up the trap and attempting to knock out Fenris was a blunt instrument had exhausted him. He had lost to much blood back on the mountain.

"What about my injuries? My belongings?"

"I have no problem caring for you until they heal. As to your possessions, I hid them. And no, they're not in this mansion." Fenris answered. Zevran chewed the inside of his cheek, unsure. It could simply be a way to dissuade him from walking around. He couldn't deduce if Fenris was lying or telling the truth. With a sigh, Zevran gave in with a reluctant nod. Usually, he would snap back with a sarcastic remark and be done with it. As it was he was tired, hungry, and desperately thirsty. He wouldn't have the energy to find his belongings anyway.

"Only if you promise not to harm me."

"I give you my word."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I think many of you will notice Zevran is a bitter in this fic. That's for the account that his love died battling the archdemon. I actually almost cried during Origins when he talked about Rinna. Yes, I know he's only a fictional character, but come on! It's sad and heartbreaking. Poor Zev! **wipes away tear **Of course, I pretty much cried for Fenris as well. Both their stories wrench the heartstrings._


	5. Dance

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I love anime, but I find Dragon Age just drew me in. On the weekends I spent hours playing and then starting over for a different result each time. I actually made another character on Dragon Age II. Aiming to rule Kirkwall this time around. ^_^'_

"How many Zevran's does it take to impregnate a brothel?"

"I don't know. How many?"

"Just one."

"Oh, how is that?"

"Because the whores knew they were screwed as soon as he walked in." Howl said with glee. Zevran smiled in response, though he hardly understood how the joke was even remotely funny. Other than the innuendo intended, he found slightly amusing at best. At the worse a tired twist on an old joke.

"How many Howl's does it take to kill a darkspawn?"

"I don't know. How many?"

"None. They were did by being engulfed in flames soon as they came into view." Howl's eyes narrowed in concentration as he contemplated the joke. Zevran rolled his eyes, trying to hold his patience. Howl tended to dwell on matters far beyond their intended meaning. A simple comment could lead to hours of silent contemplation or the scribbling of notes. He had begun to notice the mage carried a small journal wherever he went along with a book or two for light reading.

"I don't get it."

"It was a joke. Laugh." Zevran said, a bit annoyed as he cast his eyes towards The Pearl. When they had reached Denerim, Howl had protested he wanted to go off alone. Sten was loathe to let Howl wander around with an Antivan assassin, but the mage had pointed out two elves stood out less than a dark skinned Quanari. Finally, with reluctant agreement Sten had forced a promise from Howl if he wasn't back at the inn by nightfall Zevran would be tortured to death. Which didn't bother the Antivan assassin, he would be long gone before they could catch him.

"Ha, ha. Do you think they'll let me in?" Howl asked Zevran, nodding towards The Pearl. Zevran gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at the mage he was from _Antiva_ not _Denerim_. Honestly, Howl assumed any of his companions knew everything.

"I would expect so. They're a brothel, no? As long as you have the coin they won't object." Zevran answered with a sigh. Quite honestly the brothel made him shift uneasily. He wasn't one to think with his cock, but he had been deprived of any pleasurable company for the past four weeks now. He had managed to win the good graces of Howl, but couldn't yet convince him to go to bed with him. The elven mage was jumpy and nervous around him despite his subtle glances and warm smiles. Zevran suspected the young mage had probably never lain with another before or even succumbed to the pleasure of his own hand in a moment of weakness. Honestly, Howl was _exactly_ like a child.

"Do you wish me to go in with you? Hold your hand, perhaps, my dear Warden?" Zevran teased him and received a withering glare in return. He only smirked in response as Howl straightened his shoulders and marched right up to the doors. Raising a brow, he followed him and graciously thanked him when Howl held the door open for him. Such manners for someone raised in the Circle of Magi.

When they entered they were instantly greeted by a smiling woman who welcomed them graciously. Howl nodded nervously, shaking so badly he almost tripped over his own robes as they entered the main area. Off to the left Zevran spotted a few closed doors and heard quiet moans vibrating through the walls. He smirked, the workings of the brothel arousing him. Thankfully it was hid by his armor or else he would have quite the embarrassing erection. Sliding into chair Zevran tapped the top of the table, the universal signal he wished to be served.

Unsure of what to do, Howl sat down across from him. When one of the whores, a beautiful young human woman, he ordered their finest vintage for the both of them. As she bustled off to get them their drinks Zevran turned to the younger elf, smirking in a knowing way. Howl shot him a glare but he ignored it as he leaned forward.

"You never told me you frequented brothels, my dear Warden." Zevran said his voice light. Howl scowled, the tips of his pointed ears turning red as he stared down at the table. His smirk broadening, Zevran made a bold move. He reached out across the table and ran his fingers lightly over one of the blushing ears. Startled, Howl let out a small yelp and jumped. Slapping a hand to his ear he gave Zevran a look of horror that had the assassin cracking up laughing.

"You're so sensitive! Cute, really. I never knew your ears were your weak spot." Zevran said grinning. Howl's blush spread to his cheeks, and he swore the mage's glasses fogged up as he hastily snatched them off and began to clean the lenses on his robes.

"Don't do that! Why do you always mess with me and no one else? Bug Alistair, or Morrigan." Howl protested weakly, though he faltered a bit. Zevran had propped his chin up with one hand watching the Warden make his argument. Though his touch had been unexpected, it was not rejected. Howl was still blushing when the young woman brought them their drinkings, he quietly thanked her while sliding her two silver pieces. The young lady in question practically shoved her cleavage into the mage's face as she winked at him. Howl hid his face his blush deepening as the young woman laughed, straightening up and swaying her hips as she walked away. Zevran admired the view but shot a glare at Howl as the mage sipped at his wine.

"I don't like teasing them nearly as much as I like teasing you. I poke you in the side and you jump five feet in the air."

"I'm not here for your personal entertainment, Zevran Aranai." Howl snapped, and Zevran feigned hurt. He put a hand over his heart, taking on an expression of anguish.

"You wound me, my Owl."

"Oh, get over it." Howl said in a bad temper. Zevran smirked in response as he took a few gulps of wine. Well, at the very least he knew his touch did not go unwanted.

…...

"You may want to come back another time." Fenris said, opening the door a few minutes later. Donnic, Hawke, and Varric had been waiting impatiently outside with a packet of cards, purses full of coin, and baskets over Donnic's and Hawke's arm bearing food and drink. Donnic blinked, staring at the nearly naked Fenris. Fenris was in nothing more than black trousers, other than that he wore nothing. It left nothing to the imagination now as his lyrium tattoos looped around his chest and shoulders, going down to disappear below his abdomen. Hawke gawked at him in astonishment as Varric just grinned and let out a low whistle.

"Are we playing strip poker? In that case we should have invited Aveline and Isabela." Varric suggested, earning a withering glare from Donnic at the mention of his wife's name. The dwarf just smirked at him knowingly as Fenris glared at them. His hair was damp, his dark skin glittering from a fresh washing. With a sigh he left the door open, turning around to disappear into the cool darkness of the mansion.

"Come in if you must. I'll be upstairs." Fenris said as he flitted up the staircase. The trio of men exchanged glances with each other as they entered, allowing the door to swing shut behind them.

Upstairs Fenris opened the door to the bedroom to check on Zevran. The assassin raised an eyebrow at him in question, a book open in his lap he had been reading. A bottle of open wine and a jug of water sat on the night stand. A goblet between them filled to the brim with probably the wine first. Fenris didn't keep food in the house, since usually Hawke invited him over for dinner or he bought a meal at one of the food stalls during the day. Now that he had his guest, he would have to probably clean out the pantry and store a few necessities there. At the moment, however, Zevran seemed content with his wine and water. Stating calmly he had been hungry before and wouldn't die in the next couple of hours.

"Hawke and the others are here. So be quiet." Fenris whispered, mouthing the words just in case the other elf couldn't hear him. Zevran bowed his head in acknowledgement, returning to his novel as he picked up the goblet. Sipping its contents delicately as if he expected the liquid to burn his lips before placing it back carefully on the nightstand.

Closing the door and locking it, Fenris turned around and came to the table just as his friends came up the staircase. He stirred the fire with the poker to coax the flames back to life as the others set up for their game. Varric sat down with a heavy sigh, cracking out the cards and shuffling them noisily.

"Final call. Strip poker or Diamondback, though I think Fenris has a head start on the first." Varric said, smirking at the lyrium elf that was busy tossing a log onto the awakened flames. Scowling at the dwarf Fenris yanked a chair out, sliding into it as Hawke and Donnic pulled up their own chairs.

"It's my house. I can do as I please." Fenris said, watching as Varric skillfully dealt out the cards. Donnic was still staring at him as if he had lost his mind. Fenris wandered if he truly had.

"Fine, fine. Prance around naked for all I care. Just keep your dangly bits to yourself, will you? You're going to make Bianca leave me if you start going commando." Varric warned his tone dead serious. A wide grin split Hawke's face as he accepted his cards, trying to keep a straight face. Donnic covered his grin with his mouth though his shoulders started shaking. Smirking at the dwarf, Fenris reached over and ran a finger down the length of the crossbow.

"You have my sympathies, Bianca. After a while I hardly find Varric very charming, either. Good thing he has chest hair, doesn't he?" Fenris cooed to the crossbow. Hawke burst out laughing as Donnic bowed his head on the table, appearing to be suffering a seizure as his entire body began shaking from contained mirth. Scowling, Varric snatched the crossbow from the table and placed her on the other side.

"Don't listen to him, baby. He's just jealous." Varric said, patting her as he shot a glare at the elf. Fenris smirked at him as glanced down at his hand, his eyes flickering to observe the faces of his companions.

"I bet ten coppers and three silvers." Fenris said, tossing the coin onto the table. The others placed their bets as well, swapping cards and glaring at each other over their hands.

This was their weekly thing. Daily, if work became slow. For Fenris this was about as exciting as his life got when it came to _fun_. He had told Aveline as such he enjoyed Donnic coming over to the mansion to play cards. Donnic knew his situation, but had no qualms in playing with a former Tevinter Slave, apparently. Every time he pulled up a chair he acted as if this was normal. Well, Fenris supposed it was normal. Though what classified as normal these days in Kirkwall were rapidly changing.

After a few rounds of purses growing lighter or heavier, Fenris found himself down by five silver, Donnic was high by only three coppers, Hawke down by a full two sovereigns, and Varric leering at them all in triumph over his stake of three sovereigns, twenty silver, and at least three coppers. He laid down his hand with a flourish, and the entire table groaned in response.

"That's right. I win every time. Still want to flirt with Bianca, broody elf?"

"Now I know why she stays with you. You have deep pockets and coin to spare." Fenris said, winking at Hawke knowingly. Donnic's grin just widened as Varric balked at the suggestion. Usually, Donnic would put his two coppers in at this point but enjoyed their banter so much he was content to sit back and watch them.

"Baby, is that true? You're only with me because I'm rich?" Varric asked the crossbow in clear horror. Hawke just shook his head, laughing as he laid down his hand. Fenris did as well along with Donnic.

"Choose me, Bianca! I won this round." Donnic said, surprising the other three. As it was, Donnic's hand was the best out of all of them. With a collective groan they pushed the pot towards Donnic who eagerly began to arrange his coin in neat piles.

"So, Varric did you and Merrill find any sign of Zevran?" Hawke asked as Varric accepted their cards back and began shuffling them thoroughly again. With a heavy sigh the dwarf shook his head, tapping the cards to straighten them out.

"Afraid not. Daisy found a necklace we think belongs to him, but other than a pool of blood I think our man's dead. We searched for a body all night, but we didn't spot a thing." Varric said regrettably, dealing out the cards. Fenris remained calm, leaning back in his chair as he drew his freshly dealt hand off the table. He involuntarily glanced at the bolted bedroom door. He didn't expect Zevran to be waiting there when he opened the door again. Having his bounty hunter only a few yards away was hardly reassuring.

"Do you have the necklace? Maybe Nuncio will accept that, if not a body. He'll probably only end up paying us half, though." Hawke commented. Varric reached into his tunic, pulling out a thin silver chain. Half of it was stained with dried blood as Varric tossed the necklace across the table. In the firelight Fenris spotted a small earring on the loop of chain as Hawke held it up for closer inspection.

"Hm. Doesn't look too expensive. A trophy, do you think? Or perhaps a token from his sweetheart? The earring might be worth some decent coin to a desperate man, but I hardly think it's of much worth. Look here, the silver is tarnished." Hawke said, pointed to the unstained part of the necklace. Indeed, the silver was tarnished. Badly, by the way the silver was nearly dulled all the way around. Hawke passed the necklace to Donnic who inspected as well before tossing it to Fenris.

"Earring is real gold with a small emerald. I believe it's probably a token from a dear lady. She probably has the other earring, an exact match of that one. Or he, depending on your preferences." Donnic said, glancing at Hawke. Word had leaked out to the group Hawke had entered a relationship with Anders. Fenris saw this as poor judgment on Hawke's part, but kept his insights concerning the healer to himself. Hawke was, after all, a mage himself. Despite his complaints of the Tevinter Imperium, Hawke remained a loyal friend.

"Do you think he would return for it? Since its most likely of personal value rather than monetary value?" Fenris asked, turning the gold earring in his hand. It had been welded shut to prevent it from accidentally slipping of the chain. He didn't remember Zevran wearing a necklace, but the chain wasn't broken. So it must have slipped off at some point.

"Where did you find this, exactly? I found a few streaks of blood, but not a pool of it." Fenris said, handing the necklace back to Varric who tucked it back into his tunic. Fenris glanced at the bedroom door again, but all remained silent. What could Zevran be thinking at the moment, his treasure being handled by strangers?

"You know, that's the weird thing. I found the blood first, but Merrill found the necklace several yards away from it snagged on a bush. No blood trail was there, though. I didn't want to get your hopes up, but I was actually considering whether he has an ally in the city." Varric pointed out. Donnic raised his head at this, putting his cards down on the table.

"It would fit his beloved hired someone to fetch him. Perhaps if we find the person with this same earring, we find Zevran, right?" Donnic suggested. Fenris felt his blood go cold, but then quicken. This was his chance! They would all be out on a wild goose chase searching for someone with an earring. But Hawke was already shaking his head as he to lay down his cards.

"Assuming that's true, how the hell do we find this person? We can't very likely go around looking at everyone's ears." Hawke said, but Fenris had an idea. An excellent plan as a matter of fact. Without meaning to he opened his mouth, the words flowing off his tongue like water as he spoke.

"It's easy, isn't it? Obviously, Zevran's beloved has to be someone with enough coin to fetch him. Narrowing it down to nobles, political figures, and a few chosen of the Underworld. On top of which this person probably wears the same earring out in the open or on a necklace." Fenris suggested, and Donnic and Hawke were nodding in agreement deep in thought. Varric, on the other hand, was giving him a stern glare over his cards. Since he couldn't very sit there and pretend he didn't notice Fenris turned his attention to the dwarf.

"Can I help you with something?" Fenris asked, and Varric narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"You never answered my question why you're only wearing pants." Varric said. Fenris raised his eyebrows, locking gazes with the dwarf.

"I sweat a lot when I'm dancing. My armor doesn't help, so I took it off and polished it before choreographing a new number." Fenris answered calmly. Varric snorted, glancing down at his cards. He slapped two on the table and drew two more.

"Seriously, Fenris, you're hiding something. I can tell."

"What makes you say that?"

"You smell like shit and you keep looking at your bedroom door. So who's the lucky lady?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Muhahahahahahaha! I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter. I found it personally hilarious. Maybe I should switch the fic to humor? Meh, I might but there is angst in it. If you're like me and have a LOT of spare time on your hands, you probably memorized the conversations the characters have with each other when Hawke is running around on missions. I love Fenris making the crack he dances in his mansion all day to Varric. XD_


	6. Brothel

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I love the title for this story. Though I feel guilty because I actually kinda, sorta, took the title from an erotic fiction under the same name. The reason I did it was because the story SUCKED! I don't usually complain when it comes to published novels, but this one was so terrible it wanted to make go outside and throw up. So as revenge I took the title. Which I don't recommend doing, but for lack of a better title I thought "Assassin's Touch" fit the best._

Zevran cocked his head to the side, listening to the conversation. Well, at least trying to. Howl had gone up to the owner of the brothel. She seemed delighted with the fact it was his first time and reassured him he would have the best of the best. He thought Howl could have negotiated the price down by half if he had felt like it, but being honest the mage paid her the full price without argument. To Zevran's fascination men were lined up for the young mage to choose from. He was seated across the brothel, but even he noticed the nervous glances the young mage cast him. What, did Howl think he would tell the others? Perhaps. He could probably use it as blackmail later.

Howl appeared to be studying all the men intently. A few gave him knowing smirks and winked at him, rubbing an idle hand down a covered abdomen, casually showing off their _excitement_ at fresh meat for a change. For a moment Zevran felt anger boil in his chest at the way they leered at the small elf. His Warden wasn't a hunk of meat!

_But wasn't he?_ _A means to an end_, Zevran thought as Howl stepped up close to one of the men. Interested, he craned his neck to see whom the Warden had chosen as his first time. However, Howl disappeared into the backroom with his chosen partner before Zevran could get a good look. Scowling, he sat back and drank his wine. He should have demanded Howl pay for him as well instead of making him wait out here.

"Sir, will you be having someone this evening?" The woman, Sara, asked. Zevran blinked up at her, giving her a knowing smirk as he shook his head sadly.

"No, my dear, I'm afraid not. You see my companion forbid me from enjoying myself lest I wander off. Perhaps next time, yes?" Zevran said. Sara returned his smile, but when she turned around to head back to the counter let out a small hmph! Zevran shook his head, sipping his wine. It wasn't his fault Howl and the others didn't trust him with coin. It was frustrating, especially when he wished to replace his weapons or armor when it had outlived its usefulness. He had to go up to Howl and point out what he wanted, and how much it cost. It made him feel like a plaything to the mage.

_Not for much longer._ Zevran promised himself, glancing at the door. _Soon he'll be dead and you'll be enjoying the spoils of war in Antiva._ Thinking of Rinna, however, he shook his head. He couldn't even manage to get himself killed properly at the hands of another. Why did it have to be this weak kneed mage? Why not Alistair who had been more than willing to kill him on the spot?

Within twenty minutes, however, a blushing Howl suddenly burst out of the door. He came out so fast as a matter of fact he scared Sara who jumped. She stared at the mage in complete shock who returned the look with one of equal horror. Howl was completely pale, his robes ruffled as he hastily grabbed at his purse. Nearly spilling the coins it held as he counted out a few coins.

"S-s-s-sorry, mistress! Here. Thank you." Howl said, shoving what looked to Zevran a fistful of silver into her hand. Sara stared at the extra coin in equal shock, opening her mouth in an O. Zevran's jaw dropped at the amount of coin Howl had. Was he mad? He had already paid her in full, and now he was giving her a tip?

Before Zevran could protest Howl dashed across the brothel, snatched up his staff, and promptly flew out the door. All in a matter of seconds with the first door still swinging closed and the other swung open. For a moment the room was silent, even the bouncers staring after him wondering if they should pursue him or not.

"He did pay in advance. I suppose...I can add this to his tab." Sara said, gently setting the coin on the counter and beginning to count it. A moment later Howl's partner sauntered out going up to Sara. To Zevran's surprise I was a golden haired elf like himself, though he had no Antivan accent. His features were sharper, his build more slim but light sinewy muscle from his occupation. Tilting his head up to the mistress who turned, giving him an odd look.

"Do you want to add this to his tab as well? He just gave it to me and ran." The elf said, opening his hand. By this time Zevran had risen from his chair and gone over to ask the whore what the hell he had _done_ to Howl. When the whore opened his hand, however, nestled there were five gold sovereigns. Zevran stared at them in astonishment. Then he got pissed.

"That cheap little bastard." Zevran snarled, causing both Sara and the elven whore to stare at him with identical looks of horror.

"He makes me ask him to pay for my armor, and yet here he is just _handing _out." Zevran said, his hands balling up into fists at the sight. Seeing the two still staring at him and the bouncers beginning to move in, he held up his empty palms.

"Forgive me, my anger is not directed at you. Pardon me while I go beat the crap out of Howl before skinning him alive." Zevran said promptly, spinning on his heel intent on hunting down the mage.

"Are you, perhaps, Zevran?" Said the elven whore, bringing up Zevran short. Stunned, he turned back around and studied the other elf intently. They probably could have passed for brothers if they had wished it. He tried to place the face staring back at him, but came up short. He would have remembered someone who looked so similar to him.

"Yes, I am he. Have we met before?" Zevran asked suspiciously. The other elf didn't have an accent as he gave Zevran a knowing smirk. His were more mischievous rather than teasing than Zevran's were. Sara crossed her arms, glaring at her whore.

"Palen, what did you do to the poor boy? I'm glad for the coin, but I'm beginning to think you threatened him." Sara said. Palen nodded to Zevran who was still dumbfounded by the situation.

"Actually, this entire situation Mister Zevran's fault, Mistress." Palen stated and this time Zevran was staring at the other elf as if he had hit his head. Seeing he wasn't making things clear, Palen motioned with his finger to Zevran.

"Come with me, honey, I need to have a little talk with you." Palen said, not even waiting before he turned around and walked to the other side of the brothel. Zevran glanced at Sara for help who merely shrugged and motioned for him to follow.

Zevran followed Palen to an empty table in the backroom. Pulling out a chair, he offered for Zevran to sit first before taking a seat himself. Stippling his fingers Palen regarded him with honey colored eyes. Zevran raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to start.

"Honey, have you bedded that sweet little mage?" Palen asked. At that Zevran let out a cold laugh, shaking his head.

"No, but it's not for the lack of trying. Why?" Zevran asked, narrowing his eyes at the other elf. Palen was smirking at him now. With a soft sigh he put his hands flat on the table as if bracing himself.

"Well, the entire reason for him forking over five gold is the fact that he felt he was insulting me. So he decided the best way to make me feel better was give me a ridiculous amount of coin so I wouldn't say anything to Mistress Sara." Palen said, sliding over four of the gold coin to Zevran. Zevran picked them up off the table, studying at them as he raised an eyebrow at the other elf.

"What's this for?"

"Because I'm not keeping my silence. The entire reason behind it is to sweet, and the one I'm keeping in case he decides to come back." Palen said regarding him with those honey colored eyes. He was fairly attractive, Zevran could see why Howl might choose him to take to bed with him.

"How is it 'so sweet' as you put it?" Zevran asked, curious despite himself. Earlier he had been angry enough to go out and rip Howl to pieces. Now he wondered what it was he had done to make a _whore_ hand over free coin. This time Palen actually smiled, a true, happy smile. He glanced down at his spare coin, turning it over so the gold caught the light.

"At first, he wanted to sleep with me because I looked like you." Palen answered. Zevran blinked, that was new to him. He leaned forward, now completely focused on the whore who was still smiling.

"Then what? What happened?" Zevran prompted him. Palen met his eyes for a moment, and shook his head letting out a light laugh.

"Well, just after I took off my shirt he stopped me. Asked me how...things worked down there." Palen said, raising his eyebrows at the assassin. This time Zevran smirked.

"What did you say?"

"Oh, I told him the usual birds and the bees bullshit. Then he said, 'did you see the other elf I was with?' I said, 'yes honey, he's beautiful. Why, you want him to join?' 'No'. He told me. 'How do I pleasure him?'" Palen recited, causing Zevran to stare at him. He hadn't expected to hear _that_ of all things. Now it was beginning to make sense.

"And?"

"So I began to give him a few pointers. Still trying to get undressed, mind you. I have a reputation to keep, after all. Then he reached over, took my hand, and apologized to me. There were tears in his eyes and when I asked him what for he said, 'I believe I'm insulting your profession. I just wanted to be with you because you looked like Zevran.'" Palen said, and this time Zevran wasn't sure whether he should laugh or not. By the small smile still playing on Palen's lips, however, he remained stoic as he nodded.

"I noticed you and I have an uncanny resemblance. At least now I won't have to worry about you saying your with my child." Zevran said, meaning it as a joke. At this Palen's eyes snapped up, all traces of flirtation gone.

"Cheat on him, and I'll castrate you, honey." Palen threatened. Surprised at the sudden attack he stared at the whore in surprise who wagged his finger at him as if he were a naughty child.

"You seem oddly protective of someone you haven't slept with. I was raised by whores, you know." Zevran said, and this time Palen's eyes softened a bit. But he still had an air of a parent talking down to a child.

"Then you know how hard a life it is. This is the first time I've ever had a patron wish to sleep with me because I looked like a person they _wished_ was their lover. Usually, when one goes to a brothel it's to escape a partner. Not obtain one." Palen said, raising his eyebrows at the assassin. Zevran reluctantly nodded, seeing the logic of it. Howl was by and large a good person, if clueless on real life at times.

"Now, I don't know you. But by the way this little mage talked about you I have the impression your a generally good person. If you're not interested in him, then cut it off before anything gets started. I don't want to have to call Carlos for one of my most adorable new patron's getting his heart broken by a bastard." Palen said, a sweet smile on his face. Zevran raised an eyebrow at him, noticing one of the bouncer's cracking his knuckles behind him. Rising from the table, Palen shook his hand.

"It was nice talking to you, Zevran. But seriously, Howl is one of the few people who has a good heart. He really care about you, you know. Smitten, in fact. So be good to him. Don't hurt him. And tell him he always has Palen as a friend at The Pearl." Palen said, before turning around and walking back to the rooms. Zevran was left standing there staring at the elven whore.

How, in the space of twenty minutes, could Howl move a _whore_ to be protective of him? Palen had been passionate about the subject, a small smile on his face as he gazed down at the gold sovereign in his hand. Perhaps there was something to Howl he hadn't noticed before, after all.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _There actually is a whore at The Pearl in Origins that looks a bit like Zevran. No, they never share the actual names of the whores. I came up with Palen by glancing at the February calendar on my wall. I just thought something like that would be sweet. XD_


	7. Captain

AUHTHOR'S NOTE: _You know, I just recently found out this pairing is called Zevris? LOL _

Zevran's head was beginning to droop as he read the novel. He felt light headed from blood loss and not eating. On top which drinking wine on an empty stomach made him drowsy. Closing the novel, he was about to curl up under the welcoming warmth of his covers when he heard mention of an earring. His mind groggily tried to focus on the subject, his hand groping tiredly at his throat. Instead of touching the familiar chain his fingers brushed over the bruise he had received from being in a head lock earlier. This time Zevran woke up, sitting straight up as he searched his person for the necklace with the earring on it. He came up empty and a sense of dread in the pit of his belly. Outside he heard the familiar voice of the dwarf and Hawke talking. Fenris's deep tones replying to their plying comments from time to time.

"You smell like shit and you keep looking at your bedroom door. So who's the lucky lady?" The dwarf asked, his voice muffled by the door. Zevran sat up, his chains clinking quietly as he shifted. He clenched his fists, wishing he had one of his daggers in hand to defend himself. This was it, it was over!

"Not so lucky if I tripped on a chamber pot this morning. Spilled the bloody thing on myself and now I have to deal with the stink in there. I was in the process of cleaning it up when you all showed up." Fenris answered in a bored tone. Zevran felt his muscles relax when he heard a sound of disappoint from the dwarf.

"Ah, come on! You never have any fun, do you? You need to get laid, that's what you need broody elf."

"VARRIC!" Snapped the voice of an embarrassed Hawke. Zevran bit his lip, trying not to laugh himself despite the dire situation. He had used to joke with his companions in the same way before they had all gone their separate ways.

"At least that explains the stink." Donnic chipped in helpfully earning a wicked scowl from Fenris.

"You dare to insult me in my home? Maybe I'll tell Aveline you were seeking the attentions of another lady. She'll be most interested to hear you have an eye for Bianca." Fenris threatened the guardsman. Donnic balked, turning pale at the thought as he hastily began pawing through the one of the covered baskets. Varric shot the dark elf a glare as he drew Bianca all the way off the table so she would suffer no more abuse. Finding what he sought, Donnic hastily shoved a bottle of wine into Fenris's hands. Knocking over the small pile of coin he had managed to accumulate in the game despite losing. Fenris righted the bottle and set it to the side as he straightened up the scattered coin. A smile teased the edge of his lips as he tried to keep from laughing outright at the guardsmen. Any threat to his marriage, no matter if it was true or not, scared the poor man.

"Maybe we should have played strip poker. None of you can get your head out of the gutter." Hawke stated bluntly, drawing a general chuckle from the others. They passed a few minutes with nothing more than the general comment and the shuffling of cards. After about half an hour of losing and gaining coin, Hawke folded his hand and laid the cards flat on the table.

"Well, I have to get going. I have to meet with Anders about something." Hawke said, not inclined to discuss what the matter was. Fenris raised a brow as Hawke straightened up, dusting off his robes as he left. Pretty soon the trio fell to idle chatter before eventually Varric and Donnic left as well on their own agendas.

Once the door had swung shut on the last person Fenris felt as if he could breathe again. He had lost a good ten silver from the card game. On the other hand Hawke had "forgotten" his baskets of food and wine. He tended to be doing that more often, as if he feared he would come to mansion one day to find him dead from starvation. Fenris appreciated the thought behind the action, but he wasn't a charity case. Except for two opened bottles of wine, the others really hadn't bothered to eat anything. At least that left plenty for Zevran to eat.

Picking up one of the baskets, Fenris walked over to the door and paused, listening. He heard a steady heartbeat coming from within, deep and slow like a drum. When he unbolted the door he cautiously let it swing open this time. In order to set off any traps the other elf might have decided. Instead, he saw Zevran had fallen asleep across the pillows. One of his many blankets half pulled up to his chest as he slept soundly. Fenris stepped carefully into the room, continuing to cast suspicious glances at the blond as set down the basket of food.

Zevran remained fast asleep throughout, only turning over and muttering in his sleep before settling back into the pillows. Fenris watched him for a while with a mixture of apprehension and jealousy. He had truly stepped over a line today by harboring the assassin and lying to Hawke. Now they would all be on a wild goose chase searching for an earring on an ear that didn't exist. Taking one last glance at the golden haired elf, Fenris pulled the blanket up close to Zevran's chin as a last thought.

…...

When he awoke for the third time, it was near evening. Outside the window the light was pale, bathing the room in a fire as the sun set. Sitting up groggily, Zevran tried to rub the sleep from his eyes as he focused on his surroundings. He hadn't meant to fall asleep again as his body already felt as if he'd been hit by a horse carriage. Letting out a small groan as he sat up he spotted a covered basket. Right then his stomach began to growl awakening his appetite.

Swallowing the sudden flood of saliva in his mouth Zevran grabbed the basket and yanked the napkin off. A fresh loaf of bread was in there, along with cheese, cold ham, and a jar of jam. Salivating he ripped off a piece of the bread, putting a hunk of cheese and ham on it before devouring it. Hunger sharpened the taste buds and the simple fair tasted like the sweetest delicacy to him. It was only after he had begun to work on his third hunk of bread he remembered Fenris.

Glancing around the room, he noticed the door to the bedroom was ajar. Craning his neck he could see the cold fireplace and the great dining room table standing in front of it. To live in such splendor and to care less about what could happen to the building. Zevran knew the other elf was squatting here, but wondered if he wasn't concerned about the inhabitants returning. Tugging on his chains he wondered if he should try picking the locks again. Fenris had fetched a different set of chains to prevent him from escaping.

"Fenris?" Zevran called getting up on his knees to better see out the door. He heard no reply but spotted two bottles of wine laying on the table. He checked his pitcher for water but it was bone dry. Swallowing dryly Zevran took a breath to speak louder.

"Fenris!" Zevran yelled into the empty mansion. He heard no reply to his call and began to wonder if Fenris had left. A few seconds later, he heard a grunt and the creaking of springs. A moment later Fenris appeared in the doorway fully outfitted in his newly polished spiked armor. Zevran felt his heart speed up at the sight of the other elf, glad he hadn't been abandoned.

"What is it?" Fenris asked, frowning at Zevran. Zevran held up his wrists in supplication and jingled them.

"Can you undo these? I have….business." Zevran said raising his eyebrows for emphasis. Fenris furrowed his brow as he glanced down at the bound wrists. He still didn't trust the blond to not bolt at the first opportunity. Whether it was illogical or not.

Walking over to the bed Fenris sat next to Zevran. Taking one of the slim wrists in his hands he ran a gauntlet covered finger along the edge. Automatically the manacle popped off as Fenris repeated the procedure on the other one. Zevran massaged the bruised flesh as he quickly stood up to go to the bathroom.

"There's an outhouse in the courtyard out the backdoor. Try not to let anyone see you." Fenris said without being asked. Zevran nodded, quickly disappearing out the open door.

Fenris sighed, covering his eyes to ease his headache. He hadn't managed to get much sleep after the others had left. After cleaning up his armor and the mess from the afternoon he'd lain on the couch in the breakfast room. Attempting to snatch a few hours' sleep before heading out with Hawke at night. Hawke had decided to bring along Merrill and Anders since to allow the others to rest. Leaving him to defend them as they threw spells from a safe distance leaving him to get pummeled, stabbed, and beaten. While he never told Hawk, it was one of the reasons he hated mages. They didn't know the true meaning of battle and as a result didn't respect life. No wonder the Quanari cut out the tongues of their mages at birth.

Having relieved himself, Zevran was heading back inside when he spotted a familiar face heading up towards the mansion. The courtyard was surrounded on two sides by stone walls, the last part being a latticework for a flowering vine. Isabela didn't see the assassin gawking at her as she headed to the front door of the mansion. Zevran didn't stay long before he darted into the mansion and began bounding up the staircase two stairs at a time. What is the world was _she_ doing here? The last time he had seen the captain was in Denerim.

When Howl had still been alive.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I find it hilarious Fenris carries around a sword bigger than he is. LOL_


	8. Knife Ear

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _One of the things I love about fan fiction is the fact you don't have to invent your own characters. At the same time I like sitting back and studying the series I'm typing about to see if I can make any new combinations. Also I know it can be frustrating switching to the Past and Present without any distinction but a dotted line. But putting an entire chapter (or even part of a chapter) in italics hurts my eyes to read it. I will label though, since in most of the chapters I switch back to Present and put double the dotted lines when the time frame switches. Fair compromise? _

**DA ORIGINS**

"You're a fool." Zevran said when he caught up with the Warden. Howl froze, having fled to the alleyways of Denerim to escape his embarrassment. When he finally did catch up with the young mage, he found him braced against a wall trying to catch his breath. Howl shot him a withering glare as he straightened up, smoothing out his robes as he tried to still his breathing.

"No more a fool than the knife-ear who thought he could defeat a Grey Warden." Howl shot back. Zevran winced, putting a hand over his heart as he took on an air of depression.

"You wound me, my dear Owl. How could you utter such hurtful words? It breaks my heart to hear such slander from such a handsome man." Zevran chanted his expression sorrowful. Howl rolled his eyes as he straightened out the cuffs of his robes.

"Oh, stuff a pair of pantaloons in it." Howl snapped earning a laugh from the blond. Zevran sauntered over to the mage and threw an arm around his shoulders. Drawing him close to his body as he bent his head to whisper in his ear.

"It's not wise for a knife-ear to call another by such a name. I may have to punish you for insulting me later." Zevran whispered, his warm breath falling over Howl's pointed ear. The tips immediately starting turning red as the mage tried to pull away with a blush. Zevran let his arm drop to wrap around Howl's waist as he yanked him close to his chest. Howl let out a small yelp of surprise as Zevran bent his head, touching foreheads with the younger elf. Howl's baby blue eyes gazed up into hazel as he shivered in the assassin's grasp.

Zevran smirked, sensing the other elf's nervousness. This was to easy. It was common to draw a mark in with lust and desire. If they developed feelings for their Antivan Crow than even better. Affection led to trust, which led to love. Meaning an easy kill for the Crow and a bonus from the guild. Bending his head even lower, Zevran locked lips with Howl. Unsure of what else to do the mage opened his mouth accepting the foreign tongue. They remained there for a while, Howl pressed warm and yielding to his chest. Plundering his mouth with his tongue as he pushed him up against the wall pressing their bodies closer together.

After a moment Howl broke the kiss, breathless as he gazed up at Zevran from under his lashes. His eyes were bright with desire as he licked his lips, swallowing when Zevran gave him a lecherous grin. Gulping nervously, he lowered his eye in supplication. Zevran tried not to cackle at the easy victory as he trapped the younger elf against the wall. Raising his arm above his head in order to lean over him as he put the other on his hip. Howl's blush deepened as he shifted nervously from the close contact.

"Do you mind moving?" Howl asked, his voice a quiet whisper. Zevran's grin widened as his fingers wrapped around a knife stowed in his belt. It would be so easy, all he needed was to hide the body afterwards.

"Yes. I like seeing you like this, beneath me. If this makes you blush, imagine the other positions I can put your body in." Zevran said, pressing his hips to Howl's. Howl shivered, looking up the assassin with those trusting eyes. Drawing his knife, Zevran hid it in the palm of his hand as he wrapped an arm around Howl's neck. Howl hesitated, than slowly reached up and wrapped his arms around his neck. Gently tugging his head lower into another kiss. This time gently, lips pressing lightly against lips. As they were kissing, Zevran let the blade slip from his palm into his fist.

…

…

Fenris barely heard Zevran as the former assassin came up the steps. His hazel eyes wide with excitement and slightly out of breath. He glanced at him from his spot in the doorway where he was leaning against the doorframe.

"So eager to see me again, Zev? You were ready to flee earlier." Fenris snapped at the other elf. Zevran fixed him with a glare before letting a smirk cross his face as he drew closer.

"Every time you speak it's as if the stars shine. Are you going out? Perhaps a night with a mademoiselle, yes?" Zevran asked stopping only a few feet away from him. Fenris frowned as he pushed away from the doorframe. Going over to the table to sit until Hawke came to fetch him.

"Never. I do not keep company with _mademoiselles _or _monsieurs_ for that matter. I have more important matters to attend to then pleasure. Unlike certain individuals I know." Fenris answered glancing at Zevran. Zevran raise a brow in question to the reply but shrugged as if it did not matter to him.

"Surely you seek some sort of companionship, yes? I heard you talking with your friends. You don't spend all your spare time sulking as I first assumed." Zevran teased causing Fenris to shoot him a withering glare. He smiled at the dark skinned elf who snorted in response.

"You are a fool. And focus to much on pleasure than is necessary."

"At least I enjoy myself. Where you quite obviously slink into a corner and sulk.

"I do not sulk."

"Yes, you do. Come, it is not something to be ashamed of. I know of women and men who have to do nothing more than cast a smoldering gaze over their shoulder to warm their beds."Zevran explained. Fenris remained silent, whether for lack of reply or disbelief at the words he could not tell.

Zevran pulled out a chair, joining Fenris at the table. His captor ignored him instead digging his gauntlets into the table creating fresh grooves in the wood. Zevran leaned forward to observe this interesting phenomenon. Downstairs the sound of a lock clicking open echoed in the mansion and the swish of a door. Then a loud slam as it was shut abruptly before the sharp thud of heavy boots walking up the stairs.

Zevran glanced at his captor who appeared oblivious to the whole ordeal. Instead continuing to dig into the table with his metal claws as the footsteps drew closer. Did he truly not care if Isabela saw him? Or perhaps Fenris had already told her of his presence? Stealing another glance at the stairs Zevran suddenly thought it may be a trap. Just as Isabela came to the top of the stairs, she wasn't sure what she saw.

Fenris was seated at his table as usual, feet propped up on the edge as he appeared to be deep in thought. However, instead of the usual neutral expression he was smirking as if he found something particularly amusing. Her eyes drifted to the second figure right next to him on the left and froze there.

Zevran appeared to be just settling down in the chair when he saw Isabela. Upon seeing one of his former lovers a wide grin split his face. A laugh caught in the back of his throat as he waved to her in greeting to her astonishment.

"My darling Isabela, you did not tell me you knew the great Lord Fenris! Come, sit with me so we can both annoy him." Zevran suggested. Fenris's expression of amusement was replaced with a frown as he shot a stern glare at the blond.

"Did I not tell you not to call me 'Lord'? I am no pompous asshole."

"You certainly act like one. And no, as a matter of fact to my knowledge you gave no such command I call you anything else." Zevran shot back. Isabela raised her eyebrows as she glanced in between the two males. She could already sense the testosterone levels rising in the room. She had fleeting fantasy of taking both of them to bed and smiled at the idea. Wouldn't that be interesting?

"He has a point, Fenris. If I didn't know you I would assume you were a bit of an asshole." Isabela added. She laughed when Fenris's head whipped around to glare at her as well. Finding himself attacked from both sides he took his feet off the table, standing up as he bent to retrieve his great sword.

"Where is Hawke? He told me he would come up to the mansion himself." Fenris said as he strapped his sword to his back. To his amusement Zevran watched this feat of strength with a look of awe. Zevran was shorter than Fenris by a few inches and it was hard to comprehend an _elf_ handling a weapon with the expertise Fenris did considering his weapon of choice was bigger than he was. Zevran had even begun to suspect the sword was enchanted to be lighter than it truly was.

"Change of plans. Hawke wants you and me to sweep the coast for our Antivan quarry." Isabela answered glancing at Zevran who gave her a wary look. She could see the padding of bandages underneath the loose clothes he wore. So, what Varric said had been true. Zevran was injured and had an accomplice, though the said savior certainly wasn't wearing any earrings.

"Tell me, how did you seduce this one? I've been trying to get him take off that spiked armor of his the last six years." Isabela said, casting an amused look at the said elf in question. Fenris scowled impressively at the pair as he muttered a few curses in Qun. Turning around and heading down the stairs.

"Enough. He did not seduce me. I captured him. Tell Hawke and I'll destroy your new ship." Fenris snapped as he went to the front door. Isabela glanced back the former assassin who nodded his head in ascent.

"I'm afraid this is true, my lovely Isabela. I am no more free here than if I were being pursued by your bounty hunter, Hawke. I gave Fenris my word I would remain well behaved until my wounds heal. Which he so graciously cleaned and bandaged for me." Zevran said, raising his voice so Fenris could hear him. Isabela gave him a hard glare to which Zevran only smiled innocently at her. Glancing over her shoulder to see if Fenris was out of earshot, she lowered her voice to answer him.

"Are you mad? Hawke has been all over Kirkwall searching for you! Instead of lowering the price, Nuncio _raised_ it to ten sovereigns for anyone who brings back your head. Twice as much if you're alive." Isabela hissed at the grinning Antivan. Zevran let out a low whistle at the reward. He knew the bounty on his head had been increased, but he had never imagined it would be raised quite that high. Clearly the guild wished to be rid of him once and for all for killing its master. Remembering how the master had died made him press his lips into a thin line. He did not wish to remember that. He had made a promise to Howl concerning that matter, and even then he had failed.

"Perhaps I am." Zevran said coldly much to Isabela's surprise.

Perhaps he was only as sane as he thought he was.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _A bit more bitter than he was last chapter, neh? I don't plan to continue long with the Howl chapters. Just enough to show how Zevran fell in love with him and changed to be a better person. _


	9. Ropes and Toes

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I'm rather mad with the fact in the actual game my Warden can't wear glasses. I wear glasses in real life and while I don't want my character to look like me, they appear smarter with glasses on! Och, well, I suppose I shall live. _

With the small body press so close to his Zevran didn't sense the others. It was only the brush of steel against sheath that gave him warning. Knife in hand, he spun on his heel and threw it without a second thought. He heard a howl of pain as one of the raiders fell back, clutching his face where the knife had penetrated his eye. Zevran was surprised the knife hadn't gone all the way through, but his attacker was a good twenty feet away. Unfortunately, his companions were much closer.

Drawing both daggers Zevran kept his back to the wall. Behind him he heard Howl's ragged breathing as the mage scrambled to get a hold of his staff. With a low hiss Zevran advanced a few inches towards the first attacker, taunting him with a finger. His stunt with the knife had given the rest of them pause for concern. Their companion was still lurching around, the knife still clearly sticking out of his eye. Blood gushed from the open wound between his fingers mixed with tears as he screamed for someone to save him.

"You'll pay for that!" One of the men shouted, brandishing a long sword. His bravado was ruined by the quiver in his voice as he advanced. Shield held up to cover his face as he peeked around it at the Antivan. Zevran smirked, shifting his body so they began to circle each other.

"Truly? Unfortunate, I forgot my purse at home." Zevran said with an air of indifference. To his right Howl had managed to brandish his staff, raising it as he muttered a spell. Instantly a cloud of ice shot from the end, engulfing the raider for an instant. As the cloud evaporated a moment later the raider was left frozen in place, clouds of condensation rolling off him in the warm air. Zevran used the moment to fly forward, slashing the throat of the second ambusher before whirling to get his third.

Chaos erupted as the men began to realize they were nothing more than sitting ducks. Swords and daggers were drawn as they all flew towards the whirling blur between them. Zevran was quick, ducking and dodging the sweep of a sword, stepping back out of range of a shield. As one man raised his sword above his head for a killing blow, it was child's play to Zevran to step up close to him and stab him in the armpit.

A sharp cry escaped the man as his useless arm fell to his side. A slash across the throat finished him off, blood spraying in his face as the man went down. Zevran spun daggers at the ready as another man rushed him with a war cry. Over the chaos he could hear Howl shouting spells and casting as fast as he could, cowering against the wall as the attackers swarmed around them. This wasn't going well.

Zevran was clear across the alleyway, having sliced his way through the ambush by mistake. He could try to circle around, but the moment he stopped attacking the men would go for Howl. Calling out to him to flee would give away the mage's position and put him at the mercy of the men. Gritting his teeth, Zevran wondered why he had even bothered to respond to the attack. If he had simply stepped to the side and fled, these men would have done his job for him.

Zevran didn't see one of the men step up behind him. Nor did he sense the dagger being raised to stab him in the back of the throat. He did, however, feel the poke of a sword against his armor. Zevran whirled around, taking several steps back with his blades raised to defend himself. The man behind him stood there, a look of astonishment on his face as he gazed down at the great sword that had sprouted from his stomach.

A grunt was heard from the other side of the skewered man as the sword rose up, carrying him with it as if he were a rag doll. Sten was behind him gripping the sword, and slashed his blade to the side. The man slid off and landed with a soft _thunk_ a few feet away, dead. Zevran froze, raising his blades ready for the blow. It never came.

Sten's eyes locked with the elf's for a second before he brushed past him, attacking the next man who had dared to come to close to Howl. Not far behind him came Alistair who let out a war cry as he took to hacking at the men closest to Zevran. Stunned by a sudden appearance of the rest of their party, he dully went back to cutting throats. This time having to do nothing more than wait at the side of anyone the two men were engaging in and diving in when an opening presented itself. Within minutes the battle was over, the trio of fighters breathing heavily as they surveyed the damage.

Howl approached them cautiously, his face pale as he glanced at their fallen attackers. Sten was closest to him and shaking slightly from the heat of battle. From where he stood Zevran could see the bright glaze of madness that overtook warriors such as him. In his mind he was still fighting, his body tense for the next blow. Alistair too was trying to draw himself out of reverie just Howl came up close to the Qunari and put a hand on his arm.

Zevran saw a suppressed urge to raise his sword ripple up the Qunari's arm. Sten glanced down at Howl and seemed to be holding his breath. Did the damn mage not understand you don't just _walk up and touch_ someone on the arm after they just got done killing a person? However, Sten did not reproach the young mage as he nodded to him.

"Are you injured, _Saarebas_?" Sten asked his voice deep. Alistair's head whipped around at the name. This was Zevran's first time hearing Sten call Howl this as well. He remembered distantly the name meant something, but he couldn't remember. Only it wasn't good.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just….shaky, I guess." Howl answered, letting out a nervous laugh. Indeed, his entire body was shivering slightly as he moved away from the Qunari to check on his other Alistair.

"Just shaken." Howl confirmed. He turned around and staggered a few feet away. Right before he bent over and threw up.

…

…

Fenris stepped out into the cool night air taking a deep breath the scent of freshly cut flowers brushing past him. A woman had opened a stall in the middle of High Town selling her freshly blooming wares. He closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the small sounds of the restless city.

In the distance he could hear the scolding voice of a mother putting her wayward children to bed. A servant opened a back door to dump out a reeking chamber pot that should have been cleaned out yesterday. The sizzle of meat in an open pan as it was cooked to be served on a noblemen's plate. Yes, the residents of High Town were settling into their nests of ignorance for a safe night of rest. Unaware of monsters who roamed their swept streets at night. Stole into their homes under the cover of darkness to steal silverware stored away in drawers.

No one in Kirkwall was safe. High Town gave the illusion of safety, but truly they were all victims to the common thief. Narrowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, Fenris stepped down the steps leading up to his mansion. Waiting for Isabela to join him so they could travel back to the Wounded Coast. He only had to wait for a minute before the pirate woman appeared in the doorway. Accompanied by an annoyed looking Zevran as she came down the steps. Seeing the blond meant to follow them, Fenris came forward, holding out his hand to stop him.

"And where do you think you're going? Stay here. Hawke might see you if you come with us." Fenris said, though secretly he didn't want to have to deal with protecting someone who couldn't fight. Zevran scowled, glancing at Isabela who was calmly picked her nails with a spare knife. A smile on her lips as she listened to the quarreling elves.

"You don't truly mean to leave me here, Lord Fenris? These streets aren't safe at night. Especially since you took away my weapons and are leaving me in an _abandoned _mansion." Zevran pointed out. Fenris frowned, his brow furrowing as he thought of the best way to convince the blond to stay inside. Isabela let out a low chuckle, holding her hand out to inspect her clean nails.

"Sounds as if you have a mutiny on your hands. Why not tie him up with rope and hang him from the ceiling by his toes? I've found that works wonders for seamen who have a mind to go against orders." Isabela said with a smirk. Zevran raised a brow at the suggestion but didn't say anything. Fenris let out a low growl, massaging his temples to clear his head. If these two remained in his presence much longer they would _both _find themselves hanging from the ceiling by their toes.

"I wouldn't object to rope. Or hanging from the ceiling, for that matter." Zevran purred making Fenris's headache worse. He glared at the other elf who smiled in response but fell silent.

"You gave me your word you wouldn't leave until your wounds were healed. No one is going to come by here if I'm not here. Even if a thief broke in, what would they steal? Everything of worth was taken by Hawke." Fenris said, noticing the coldness that stole over Zevran at the mention of the mage's name. Zevran sighed, shaking his head as he reached to close the door.

"Fine. My life is in your hands, my friend. Don't fail me, do hear?" Zevran said, his voice suddenly sounding tired. As he closed the door and locked it Fenris couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. There had been more to the reply than what lay on the surface. Zevran had made it sound as if he were entrusting him with his very safety.

As he walked with Isabela back to the coast, it occurred to Fenris she may give the assassin away. He glanced at her, the question on his tongue but stopped. She had mentioned from time to time she had met the assassin. As a matter of fact, Zevran was the reason she had become captain of a ship in the first place. Having killed her husband several years before at the behest of the Antivan Crows. No, Isabela would not turn in the assassin. Not unless he was a personal threat to her or the others.

_My life is in your hands._ So weighted, those words. He truly did hold the power to kill, maim, or torture the other elf. The sheer power Fenris held over the weakened elf scared him and sent a thrill through his entire body at the same time. There was an underlying sense of trust in what Zevran had said. He could very easily wait until he was completely out of sight of the mansion. Steal any number of spare swords Fenris left lying around the mansion. Even a knife or two before taking off into the night. However, a part of him was sure he would return to an occupied home.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Hm, I do believe there isn't much Fenris and Zevran action going on, is there? Aside from the small incident of Fenris scaring Zevran in the earlier chapters. In Word it says I'm already forty pages into the story. Such is the way of writing, I suppose. Just waiting until the next turn of the page for some action to happen. ^_^'_


	10. Wizard Howl

**Chapter 11**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _As I'm working on this fic I'm coming to love Fenris and Zevran even more! They're such deep, emotional characters I'm surprised I've never bothered to write about them before. And to think this is my first fic for this pairing. The storyline I came up with flows very smoothly I've hardly had to work at all beyond typing. O.o_

**DA ORIGINS**

"Your name sounds similar to 'Howe'. Is he your namesake, perhaps?" Zevran asked out of the blue. Howl glanced up at the assassin, sitting on the floor brushing Shigure's short fur. The mabari barked, clearly annoyed at his master's attention being on anything else but him. Zevran thought it was funny how Howl's own dog was bigger than he was. Shigure got up, trying to climb into Howl's lap which had the mage yelping in surprise. Trying to push the huge hound away and get him to lay back on the floor.

"No, as a matter of- NO! Down, Shigure! Lay down! No, my mother actually named me after a wizard she read about in a book. At the time though I don't think she knew I was a mage." Howl said, managing to get the mabari to lie down. Shigure stubbornly laid his head in Howl's lap, pinning him there to the floor. Howl sighed, giving up on brushing the dog's fur as he scratched him behind the ears.

Zevran quirked a brow as he leaned forward from his seat. It had been two days after the ambush in the alleyway. Turned out Sten had been following them ever since they left the inn. Alistair had tagged along only because he claimed the Quanari had bullied him into it. Zevran didn't believe the bastard prince for a minute. He knew they were worried he was going to kill Howl. The only ones who didn't appear concerned were Morrigan and Shigure. Morrigan appeared to care less about the mage and Shigure loved anyone willing to give him a bone. So no worries there, at least.

"A book? You seem to be quite in love with stories, aren't you? I always see you with a novel in hand or writing a thought down. I believe you're what people call a 'bookworm', little Owl." Zevran teased, earning a shy smile from Howl. Shigure let out a low _wuff_ and gave a slight growl. Howl hit the mabari lightly on the nose, efficiently shushing him as he ran his hand through the short hair.

"Well, my mother taught me my letters at a young age. She was very fond of this one novel, called _Howl's Moving Castle_. Howl was a wizard in the story who traveled around causing trouble. It was a common practice of his to make a young woman fall in love with him before he left her to pursue someone else." Howl said, wrinkling his nose at the memory. Zevran was surprised to hear of Howl's mother. He wondered if, like his, she was dead. Glancing at the mage he didn't think so. Howl had an odd look on his face as he gazed down at the mabari. Almost as if he was…sad.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is a 'wizard'? Is it like a mage?" Zevran asked, deciding to try and steer the conversation onto kinder ground. Howl nodded, scratching Shigure in the spot that got his back leg thumping on the ground.

"A wizard is just another name for 'mage'. Howl eventually fell in love with a young woman who was cursed by the Witch of the Waste. She was turned into an old woman for a time and the Witch of the Waste was jealous of her because the young woman could do magic as well. But at the time she didn't know she was practicing magic." Howl explained. Fascinated, Zevran nodded as he listened. He had never bothered to crack open any sort of book in his life even though he too knew his letters. Perhaps when all this was over, he might read a novel?

"How was she practicing magic if she wasn't aware of it? Surely one is aware when casting spells?"

"She was a hat maker, you see. She ran this small hat shop and as she was making them she would talk to them. In that way she enchanted the hat and whoever wore it something would happen to that person. She told one hat it would marry money, and the woman who wore it married a rich man." Howl said, a small smile playing across his lips. Zevran chuckled, imagining if such enchantments existed. Everyone would probably travel from far and wide to obtain such a magical item.

"Ah, I see now. Your namesake fits you well, Howl. I can easily see you in a moving castle traveling the countryside. Broken hearts, however, I believe you're too kind for such a thing." Zevran said. Howl laughed at that, shaking his head as he finally managed to push the hound's head fully out of his lap. Sometime when they were talking Shigure had fallen into a dead sleep. Howl brushed loose fur off his robes, going to sit on the divan beside Zevran. The mage stretched out his legs, letting out a soft sigh of contentment as his knees popped.\

"Thanks, Zevran. In the Circle people use to ask me if I had the name because I howled at the full moon when I transformed into a werewolf." Howl said, shaking his head at the thought. Zevran smirked, shifting his body as he was facing the mage. Howl removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he yawned.

"Did your fellow mages ever dance under the light of the full moon, naked, and make love to each other? I heard of such rumors of this happening back in Antiva." Zevran, lowering his voice conspiratorially. Howl stopped to stare at the assassin, before shrugging as he put his glasses back on.

"Only the really good ones." Howl said, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. Zevran narrowed his eyes at the reply. He had given the same one when Morrigan had asked him if all Antivan Crows sought to get themselves killed. Letting out a soft snort, he scooted closer to the small mage. Howl didn't move away, only giving Zevran a mischievous grin. Intrigued, he leaned forward with a smirk on his face.

"Were you one of them?" Zevran asked in a low, husky voice. Howl leaned forward as well, opening his mouth to reply. Instead of saying anything, however, he blew lightly into the assassin's face much to Zevran's surprise.

"You're just going to have to find out, aren't you?" Howl said with a laugh. Zevran scowled and shoved Howl off the couch who just continued laughing. Sitting on the floor Howl grinned up at him, resting his arms on the seat.

"You are quite the tease, my dear Warden. I suspect I may be a bad influence on you. Before, you would have simply blushed and hid behind one of your many books." Zevran said, cocking a brow at Howl. Howl shrugged his shoulders, fiddling with a loose thread on his robe as he talked.

"It's not that I'm remarkably shy, Zev, that I don't talk to people. It's just...I guess I don't know what to _say_. You know what I mean? After I left the circle I didn't know what a Qunari was or what the outside world looked like. Now I'm dealing with all these people from all these different walks of life and I don't know how to handle them. Do I smile? Wave? Shake their hand?" Howl said, pulling the thread free from his sleeve as he fiddled with it between his fingers. Zevran nodded as if he understood, and on a level he did. The Antivan Crows were in its own way a closed society outside of assassination and buying young recruits. He knew no other life other than the Crows, but for Howl? He had hardly ever seen the true light of day until he stepped out of the tower. He had heard him discussing with Alistair once whom didn't appear to comprehend what Howl was going through.

"I mean, I had to ask _Alistair_ what a butterfly was! At the time I thought it was a magical piece of parchment just fluttering around. I called it a _Parchment Flutterer_." Howl said, with a roll of his eyes. This time Zevran's grin was genuine as he listened to the Warden. Such an innocent view of the world...he had never experienced it before. A distant memory of gazing at his mother's Dalish gloves flitted through his mind gave him pause. To be so naïve as to think a secret society existed where a person wasn't judged by their ears, race, or appearance. His expression hardened at the thought as his attitude turned sour as he got up from the couch to pour himself a goblet of wine. Innocence was nothing more than ignorance. Noticing his shift in mood Howl straightened up, standing so he could perch on the edge of the divan as he watched Zevran go across the room to retrieve a bottle of wine.

"Zevran? Are you mad at me?" Howl asked, his voice slightly shaky. Zevran paused, his back to Howl as he poured the sweet smelling vintage into a spare goblet. He closed his eyes, calming himself as he turned around with a smirk on his face. For a moment _her_ face had entered his mind's eyes.

_Rinna..._

"No, my dear Warden, merely at society. Come, let us have toast! To life." Zevran said, pouring an extra goblet for Howl and handing him one. Howl accepted it with a confused look on his face, but raised his in salute as well as Zevran bumped their goblets together. Tipping back his head he drank the entire vintage in a few swallows. Howl attempted to copy him, but instead coughed and gagged when he felt the burning stuff going down his throat.

"I don't see how people can drink this. It's awful stuff!" Howl complained, giving his goblet back to Zevran. Zevran laughed, delighted by the thought Howl couldn't drink alcohol. It was so unexpected, for a moment he forgot why he was there. Why he had accepted the contract for the Grey Wardens in the first place and regretted spitting on the dark haired girl in his nightmares.

"An acquired taste, dear friend. It's an acquired taste." Zevran reassured him, taking the wine from him and drinking it himself. Howl wrinkled his nose as he shook his head at the thought.

"You're an acquired taste, Zev. Trust me." Howl pointed out. Zevran only laughed.

…...

Waves lapped peacefully at the sand as the full moon began to rise across from them. By the time Fenris and Isabela reached the beach the moon had just risen above the waves. Hanging in the sky as if uncertain whether it should travel higher or not. Fenris gazed at it, wondering if his sister had received his letter yet across the vast ocean. Merely thinking of a piece of parchment stained with ink reaching her seemed a daunting task faced with so much water. The ship could crash into rocks, or the parchment could be borne away on the wind...

"So what do you think of your new pet?" Isabela asked as she toed a seashell she had come across. Fenris furrowed his brow, drawn from his reverie as he glanced at the pirate captain.

"Pet? Zevran is my prisoner, nothing more. He has a certain knowledge I seek. Once our deal is fulfilled he is free to roam to wherever he wills it. I may even pay a ship to take him to his destination, if he happens to have one." Fenris answered, arms crossed. A cold wind picked up and lifted a few strands of his white hair. He wondered distractedly if Zevran knew there was a working water pump in the courtyard. One of the few reasons he had chosen to remain at the mansion. Other than a lack of having anywhere else to go.

"Sweet thing, Zevran is a temptress in male form. I've seen him charm many a stalwart soul. Even a few of my men found him attractive before he killed my husband. And mind you some of these were married men as well with mistresses in other ports." Isabela said, a sigh on her lips at the memory. She missed her band of merry of men before her ship had been destroyed in the storm.

"I take it Zevran is as free with is sexual endeavors as you are? No wonder you two are friends. You deserve each other." Fenris growled, remembering the advances of the other elf. He could not deny the golden haired elf had a certain charm about him that made one want to respond. The fact that he was another male as well made it even more confusing, but at the same time tempting. He knew some men enjoyed the company of other men. Such as Hawke and Anders, but thinking of such a union made him sick to his stomach. How did one even...? With each other?

Isabela let out a high pitched laugh, bending down to pick up her found shell. She turned it in her hands admiring the swirls on the shell. It was flat, as wide as the palm of her hand with circles around the edges. On top it was rough, but when she turned it over the inside was the color of silver and opal mixed together. She tucked it into a pocket, meaning to make a necklace of it for Merrill later. She enjoyed such beautiful, simple things.

"He killed my husband, Pet. While I am happy he inadvertently gave me a ship, our ties end there. Other than my grateful thank you which he kindly accepted before disappearing into the mists the very next morning. No, he will make you fall in love him first, most likely. I have seen him at work, Fenris. He'll have you eating out of the palm of your hand within the week." Isabela said airily as they walked down the beach.

Fenris narrowed his eyes at the thought. In his mind going over everything that had transpired between him and Zevran until the moment he left. True, he could understand Zevran trying to work his way into his good graces. Any captive in his situation would to ease the torment of being held against their will. Though, a tormented Zevran was hard to imagine even for Fenris. The other elf seemed so confident that he wouldn't be harmed by his captor it was unnerving. Or perhaps he was looking into the matter to deeply. Looking for signs that weren't there.

"I will not eat out of anyone's hand. Neither will I allow myself to be tricked in such a way. Zevran can pout and charm all he wants, but he will have to find his pleasures elsewhere." Fenris said, his tone growing hard the thought. It made him think of Danarius, being called his "little wolf". Isabela glanced at him, concern flitting over her face before her features smoothed over.

"I apologize, Pet. I didn't meet in that way. Zevran is a tricky bastard, I'll give him that. But despite it all he does have a good heart. One of the reasons I won't mention his presence to Hawke, if you were worried. While Zevran is open about what he wants from a person, he is subtle is bringing an enemy into his influence. So be careful with him, is all I'm saying." Isabela warned him, serious this time. She knew Zevran to be quite charming and flirtatious. His sarcastic remarks and beautiful complexion only added to the attraction he held for both sexes. She had often wondered why, at one point, Zevran had seemed about to settle down with a plain person like Howl. Zevran had always struck her as someone who would retire at an early age in some rich lord's harem as the prize mistress.

"I accept your apology, Isabela. How well do you know him? Your assassin?" Fenris asked, curious despite himself. He knew they had slept together, but by the way she talked they must have remained friends. Isabela gave him a secretive smirk, putting a finger to her lips.

"Let dead dogs lie, pet. He is your assassin now, by the way. I only ever knew of one person who owned him and they left him for a greater destiny. Why not ask him yourself? You will be pleasantly surprised by his answers." Isabela whispered conspiratorially, despite that there was not a soul to hear them for miles. Fenris rolled his eyes at her stupidity as they walked down the beach.

There was an illusion of peace outside of the city. He could pretend he wasn't being hunted by Danarius and was looking forward to a visit from his sister. He had sent her coin to come see him and felt a tightening in his belly at the thought. Did she have children? He may be...what was it? An uncle? To elven children who did not know the harsh realities of slavery. The mere idea of it had him walking on air and a deep burning guilt at the same time. Surely, Varania would not bring her own children along to meet a long lost relative. Maybe, if things went well, he would go back with her once he killed Danarius. Retire from his life as a Tevinter fugitive and live a restful existence making clothes.

"My assassin?" Fenris asked with quirked brow but Isabela pretended not to hear him. The thought of owning another person disgusted him. While Zevran was his prisoner, he certainly wasn't _his_ in that sense. How could one own a person without one being master and the other a slave? The only thing Fenris could think of were two people joined by love, but that was a relationship. They were both equals, one did not overrule the other.

"Oh, it does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I should like my own assassin if I ever get the chance. They would be quite useful in dealing with those unsavory characters who cross me." Isabela replied, pouting her lips at the thought. Fenris furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of her comment.

"You're an unsavory character. You cross me."

"Then send your deadly assassin after me."

"No thanks, I'll pass."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _A way of showing what Fenris thinks of Zevran. Not completely repulsed, intrigued if only slightly, and completely annoyed at hounding him to sleep with him. Though from a personal perspective I believe a lot of people would agree with Howl's earlier comment. Zevran is quite definitely an acquired taste and can cause a bunch of problems for you down the road. LOL_


	11. Escapes and Piggy Back Rides

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Welcome to Assassin's Touch! Please, take a seat, have some wine, and relax as we entertain you. ^_^'_

Zevran stuck his head out the window from the bedroom, measuring the distance from the window to the ground. If he simply jumped out he would no doubt die in the stone courtyard below. On the other hand, he could climb down on the ramparts onto one of the trees near the mansion. Shimmy down to the ground and make his escape if he needed to.

Taking note of this new route, Zevran pulled his head back in. He had grown bored half an hour after Fenris had left. Unable to find any candles, and to light the fireplace, he had been walking around the mansion planning escape routes from each room. While he was an old hand at this, not even having to think in order to flee a place speed wasn't the goal here. He needed to entertain himself until he either fell asleep or Fenris returned. Zevran figured he would probably be awake until daybreak in which he would promptly pass out in the comfortable bed upstairs.

So far, Zevran had been planning elaborate ways to escape. One his favorite route was the one which involved him scaling a wall like a spider. Leaping from gargoyle to gargoyle outside like a monkey, before diving into the pool in the neighbor's courtyard. While he hadn't gone out of his way to test whether such a thing was plausible, Zevran fancied he could accomplish the task if he had a mind to.

This kept him occupied for another good hour before boredom began to set in again. He could make his way around most of the mansion by the dim light thrown from the mansions nearby. However, wandering around in the dark unarmed didn't appeal to him. After which he retired back to the bedroom to sit in the windowsill, gazing out at Kirkwall.

The view from the mansion was stunning. All of Kirkwall appeared to be laid before him lights sparkling like jewels in the night. He could make out people moving about on their way home or gangs meeting up. Across the street at the Blooming Rose he saw a group of young Templars hastily make their way into the brothel. He smirked as they all but fell over each other in order to get in first. Charming. Even here the passions of men ruled the city.

Zevran stayed in the sill watching the comings and goings of Blooming Rose patrons. He tried to guess to their names by their clothing. Making up small stories to himself about why they were there though it seemed redundant. They were all headed towards a brothel, what more could there be? However, his game echoed the last one and Zevran found himself becoming shifty. His side and thigh itched where it had been bandaged. The bandages would have to be changed soon, but he dare not attempt such a task without Fenris nearby. If he made a mistake and reopened the wound, he would bleed to death.

With a soft sigh Zevran righted himself to jump off the windowsill and see if he could find any wine. A familiar voice caught his ear, causing him to jerk around and crane his head out the window. Heading towards Fenris's mansion was what appeared to be a guardswoman in the company of a red haired man. Trailing behind her was the infamous dwarf, Varric, along with a mage Zevran didn't recognize. The red haired man was carrying a cloth covered basket looking vaguely embarrassed but smiling and nodding as the guardswoman talked to him. The mage bore an even bigger basket which he seemed to have trouble carrying. A cross look was on his face as he all but glared at the mansion.

Anders cursed under his breath, hitching the basket higher on his arm as he tried to keep up with Donnic and Aveline. Varric was on guard scanning the dark alleyways they passed up to the mansion in case of an ambush. Hawke had asked them to check on Fenris for him since the elf seemed to be nervous about something. Anders had argued with him there was nothing wrong with that _monster_. Yet, with a charming smile and a kiss on the cheek Hawke had the possessed mage practically skipping out the door before he came to his senses. A growing conniving, evil part of him was planning to take it out on Hawke later in the night.

"I still don't understand why _I_ am required to come along." Anders complained to the backs of the two guards. Aveline let out an audible sigh as Varric just cracked a grin, pretending to ignore the mage.

"If Hawke is convinced something is wrong with Fenris, _physically_ speaking then won't he need a healer? Emotional, well, I suspect we'll all be dead by morning. Fenris isn't even home, Anders. Hawke sent him out with Isabela to walk along the coast to calm him down." Aveline explained but Anders just shook his head. As he shoved the heavy basket higher up his arm, he happened to glance up at the mansion.

It would have been a casual gesture if not for the play of light on blond hair. He froze mid-step, tilting his head to see if the person reappeared. There! A shadowy figure glancing out a second time, hiding in the dark before disappearing back into the house. Anders blinked, unsure of what he had just seen.

"You saw 'em too?" Varric asked Anders, his eyes never leaving the bedroom window. A smirk spread across his face as Aveline and Donnic craned their necks to try and catch of glimpse of the elusive figure.

"I knew broody elf had a sweetheart hidden away. You should have seen him today, all twitchy as shit one of us would see her. Or him." Varric teased receiving a glare from Anders. Aveline let out a soft sigh in response as Donnic fell back to join the two men.

"It's good he's seeing someone, right? Fenris and Isabela have been getting friendlier with each other by the day. Imagine if they had children." Donnic mentioned and this brought Varric and Anders up short. Those two having children…chilling.

"Well, the fact is they _aren't_ together. Isabela isn't one to settle down with a husband and children, either. What I'm concerned about is the person he's chosen to share his mansion with. How do we know they're not just a murderer or an assassin hired to get closer to Hawke?" Aveline pointed out to the rest of them. It was a well-known fact other than Anders Hawke was closest to Fenris. The two trusted each other on a level even Anders couldn't comprehend considering his partner was also an apostate mage. Hawke seemed to accept Fenris's opinions of mages in stride even commenting on how Tevinter mages should be torn down. Such talk worried Anders, but Hawke had assured him he would never go out of his way to harm innocent mages.

"When we meet this person we'll sit down and ask them some questions. Or just leave the food on the table with a note for Fenris. Is it really our place to question who Fenris shares his bed with?" Donnic asked, concerned. Aveline furrowed her brow in thought as she considered it. True, it wasn't their place to dictate whom Fenris chose to spend his personal time with. If anything in retrospect it was Hawke's prodding they had even come over here to begin with. He had asked them to drop off food and drink for the elf his servant had prepared for the occasion. Hawke was constantly worried Fenris would fall over in battle from starvation rather than an actual blow.

"How about this. We drop the food off, and walk right back out the door? I need to get back to Dark Town, see if anyone has seen Zevran." Anders said, but was ignored by the group as a whole. As they came to the front door Aveline went first, drawing her sword before she pushed the door open. Fenris never bothered to lock it since there was nothing other than his wine worth stealing.

Sword raised in front of her, Aveline entered cautiously as Donnic stood near the entrance with Anders. Varric came in after her, sweeping the area with Bianca as they began to systematically check each room on the ground floor. After a few minutes Aveline came back to the foyer, waving her hand for her husband and friend to enter.

"It's all clear. Varric just went upstairs to check, but other than Fenris's guest no one else is here." Aveline informed them as Anders huffed his way upstairs. Donnic hurried after him, clutching the basket to his chest to prevent spilling the wine inside. Aveline had packed it herself and had made it clear if he spilled even one drop he would be castrated.

**DA Origins**

…

…

"I would have thought saving the surface would have involved less walking."

"Little legs getting tired?"

"I thought these people had animals. Horses and such."

"In Orlais, perhaps, but not here. If you like, I could hoist you up on my back."

"Hey now, don't start with the—"

"Yes, climb up, and I'll cart you around like a child! Marvelous fun!"

"You knife-eared pipe-cleaner, you couldn't carry me on your best day."

"Mmmm. Perhaps if you left behind the spirits, all the weapons, and lost about two feet of beard..."

"Ach. I give up. Just keep walking."

Howl was giggling as Oghren growled a curse at the assassin before stomping to the front of the group. They had just come back from Orzammar after dealing with Harrowmount whom had promised them aid in the coming Blight. Zevran had been against taking on any more companions, but Howl had insisted on the dwarf joining their party. As of late, Howl had taken to talking to the drunk dwarf whenever he got the chance. Sten watched with the air of a Templar guarding a mage who wished to work blood magic. He had begun to notice how the Qunari seemed to always be only a few feet away from the young mage. Referring to Howl as "_Saarebas_" rather than his actual name. What concerned Zevran was that the mages for the Qun were tied down, their tongues cut out to prevent them from working any strong magics. On the other hand if anyone dared to try and harm the mage in battle Sten was right there ripping the sucker's head off.

"What are you laughing at?" Oghren snapped at Howl in annoyance. Howl just smiled at the dwarf, beginning to giggle as the dwarf focused on insulting the mage. Zevran heard a low rumble come from Sten who was watching the duo as Howl began to talk to the dwarf.

"I doubt Oghren would go out of his way to harm your mage. Though, if he does try anything, rest assured I'll protect him." Zevran said bemused as Howl said something that sent the dwarf into a drunken fit of rage. Now Howl was simply standing there with a puzzled expression on his face as the dwarf complained.

"_Saarebas_ is in the habit of seeking out trouble. He would be better off going after the archdemon directly." Sten replied calmly as Howl shook his head at the angry Oghren, said something to the effect the dwarf just threw shook his fist in the elf's face. Zevran saw Sten shift slightly, his hand going to the great sword at his back. Howl just smiled at the dwarf, turning and heading back to his other companions. What sounded like a sigh of relief escaped the Quanari, his hand falling to his side as Howl came up and peered up at Sten.

"Saarebas, are you causing trouble?" Sten asked. Zevran raised an eyebrow, glancing at the mage. It was almost unheard of for Sten to be the one to start a conversation, let alone engage in small talk. Howl shrugged his shoulders, reaching over to grasp Zevran's hand and tug on it. Surprised, Zevran allowed himself to be pulled closer to the mage.

"No. Why, are you?" Howl asked, falling into step with Sten. Zevran glanced down at his hand, which Howl still held in a loose grip. He tried to catch the mage's attention but Howl seemed solely focused the Qunari.

"Stop annoying the others. Especially the dwarf." Sten ordered, glaring at the mage. Howl seemed to be smaller next the Quanari. Howl shrugged his shoulders, letting his hand slip from Zevran's as the others began to set up camp. It was getting dark, and they had already traveled as far as they could when it came to the road. As the other began to busy themselves with pitching tents, Sten leaving to help them, Howl followed Zevran to the cart.

"What about me?" Howl asked, raising his voice. Zevran stopped and turned to face the mage, raising a brow in question.

"I beg your pardon, Warden?"

"I want to be carted around like a child. Give me a piggy back ride!" Howl demanded, and at this the entire camp went silent. Even Oghren appeared to grow sober for a moment as he glanced at the pair. Morrigan snorted, shoving her tent into Alistair's hands for him to set up.

"Bloody elves." Oghren muttered, breaking the tension in the camp. Everyone returned to their tasks at hand except for Alistair, who had dumped Morrigan's tent and his in their current sights and gone over.

"You're always bragging about how powerful and great Antivans are. So, prove it." Howl challenged his eyes bright with mischief as peered at the other elf through his glasses. Smirking, Zevran motioned for the mage to step closer. He had an idea in mind.

"Brag? Owl, I only speak the truth. Come, then, if you are so eager to prove me wrong." Zevran said much to his own amusement. Surprised his challenge had been met, Howl set down his staff in the grass. Zevran removed his daggers as an afterthought, setting them down next to the staff. He would rather avoid cutting the mage in front of his companions.

Zevran nodded to Howl to jump on his back. Hesitant, Howl came over and gently grasped Zevran's shoulders. Beginning to pull himself up on the assassin's back. Not willing to wait, Zevran bent his knees, scooped up Howl's legs so they wrapped around his middle, and stood up straight. Howl let out a yelp of surprise as he was suddenly hoisted up two extra feet as under him the Antivan began to walk around the camp showing off the mage.

"Well, I guess Zevran is useful for something. He can carry you around." Alistair commented a smile on his face as he watched the pair. Morrigan had paused as well to watch the duo, amused when Howl waved to her from Zevran's back. Zevran smirked to himself, heading in the direction of the stream. Shigure ran up, barking and jumping around the duo as Zevran made it look as if he were going to walk another circuit around the camp.

"You're all a bunch of idiots." Oghren muttered shaking his head as he returned to his tankard.

"Zev, where are you going?" Howl asked, leaning forward to peer into the other elf's eyes. Howl's slender fingers rested on the top of Zevran's head, his fingers lightly petting the braids. Zevran smirked, hefting up the mage higher on his back drawing out a yelp as he stopped near the stream.

"Nowhere, though you my dear Warden, shall be taking a swim." Zevran answered. Before Howl could protest Zevran sent him flying into the river. Howl flew off his back with a cry as Zevran flipped him into the river. A loud splash resounded in the clearing when he hit the water. Smirking, he turned around and bowed to the applause of his other companions. When he turned back around a soggy head and popped up from the waterbed, spectacles gone as Howl coughed and spluttered. He stared up with wide blue eyes at the smiling face of the assassin.

"Where are my glasses?" Howl asked, blinking his eyes owlishly as he began to climb up the bank. He seemed dazed rather than angry at the fact his new silk robes had just been sufficiently ruined. Shigure immediately bounced up to his owner, barking and whining. Howl paused, glancing down at his mabari then back up at Zevran. A wicked gleam entered his eye as he pointed at Zevran.

"Shigure, _infligo _Zevran_ super_." Howl ordered his voice ringing with authority. The words rolled off his tongue like a spell as Shigure woofed in response, turning around and bounding towards Zevran.

Sensing the order had been nothing good, Zevran spun on his heel and darted away from the hound. He was too late as Shigure caught up to him, rearing up on his legs as he all but shoved Zevran with his front paws. Zevran cried out a curse in Antivan as he fell sideways into the water, creating a bigger splash than Howl had.

When he came back up he saw the mage was cracking up laughing. Tears in his eyes as he hugged his loyal hound, kissing Shigure on the head and telling him what a good boy he was. Zevran narrowed his eyes up at them which just made the mage fall over with glee. As he moved to stand up he felt something shift under his hand. Without a second thought he locked his fingers around it and lifted up the object.

Coming out of the water, he gave an evil smile to the mage as he held out his hand. Howl leaned forward to see what it was, squinting in order to see clearly.

"I found your glasses." Zevran said, before snatching them from under Howl's nose and dashing off.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _As you can clearly see, Zevran has quite a bit to deal with when it comes to Howl. His hands are full almost constantly having to deal with him. XD_


	12. Embodiement of Desire

**Chapter 13**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I wish there were more Zevran/Fenris fics. Though, I think a few people who began reading this fic would not expect Howl to pop up. I'm beginning to grow very attached to my Warden, lol. But I have to say I love Fenris even more! XD_

Zevran peered around the corner at the group as they entered. Beginning to relax as they talked and chatted, their voices echoing in the empty mansion. He scowled, taking a step back from the bedroom door as he thought of the best way to escape. That damned dwarf, Varric, had come up the stairs and was kicking each door in. Sticking his crossbow into each one as he swept each room before moving on. Zevran had no doubt the dwarf would automatically storm the bedroom recognizing him on sight. They had only been a few feet from each other when he had escaped Hawke.

Just as Varric was coming close to his own door, there was a yell from the staircase. Varric paused, only a few feet away from the door. Zevran held his breath, his fist tightening on the makeshift club he had used earlier on Fenris. Another yell echoed from the staircase and the dwarf let out an annoyed sigh, turning on his heel and headed back towards his friends.

"Andraste's tits, Anders, what the hell are you doing?" Varric shouted down the staircase at the flustered Anders. The mage had, apparently, fallen on his way up and was in the process of trying to scare off rats as large as his forearm who were scurrying around trying to eat the spilled foodstuffs.

"Good job, Anders. Fenris will love eating that off the floor." Aveline commented as stepped over the fallen mage, bending over to scoop up the fallen basket. Only a loaf of bread and jam had fallen out, which she picked up as well. Being sure to dust off the fresh loaf before placing it snugly back in the basket.

"Varric, did you check the last bedroom?" Anders asked his face flushed from embarrassment as he sheepishly followed Aveline the rest of the way to the top of the stairs. Donnic had already placed his basket on the table, retrieving the two empty ones Fenris had left there.

"No. We already know someone is in there, if they don't want to come out then that's on them." Varric said, raising his voice just in case Zevran couldn't hear him. Zevran's face went pale at the sound of the dwarf's voice, but no one made a move to open the door.

A second later, to Anders's surprise, the bedroom door creaked open. It was only a few inches as a tanned hand delicately placed a third empty basket outside the door. It disappeared behind the door, but a second later placed an empty pitcher and wine bottle inside the basket as well. With a soft _click_ the door closed again. Everyone was silent for a moment, staring at the offered gifts for them to retrieve. After a moment Donnic was the one who got up the nerve to retrieve the things, surprised to see the napkins used the store the foodstuffs neatly folded in the basket. He took out the water pitcher and set it on the table as he showed the basket to his wife.

"I suppose that answers our question. Guess Fenris doesn't want us talking to her." Donnic said, quirking a brow. Varric narrowed his eyes, glancing back at the door. He wanted to say something to the effect of recognizing those hands, but it would sound wrong. On top of which, if the person behind the door was nothing more than a woman Fenris would be furious. He could understand if the broody elf would not want them to involve her in their affairs. Anders took a deep breath, clearly disapproving of the situation as he walked over to the door. He knocked firmly three times before trying to shove the door open with his shoulder. It didn't give.

"I beg your pardon, madam, but can you please come out? We simply wish to make sure you're not an assassin to our friend." Anders said, deciding not to mention which one. He waited for an answer, and three knocks shook the door. Frowning, the mage attempted to turn the handle and shove the door open again. Behind him he could hear Aveline letting out a soft chuckle as Donnic just began to grin like a lunatic. Varric was watching with a growing amount of amusement as he watched these struggles.

"Madam! Open this door immediately! Or else I shall…blast it open! I am a mage, young lady, so open the door!" Anders ordered. He waited for a moment, and to his relief the door did as a matter of fact click open. Instead of a beautiful maiden coming out, Anders got smacked in the face with something. He staggered back, hearing a thud as the object slid off his face and hit the floor.

Anders hadn't been hit that hard, but he could feel a growing knot above his brow as he glanced down at the offensive weapon. Lying in the dust was an old tome its pages stained with age. The door slammed shut and locked audibly as Varric began cracking up laughing. Aveline let out a very girlish giggle as behind her Donnic's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. Furious, Anders raised his staff intending to burn the whole house down as Aveline stepped forward, grabbing his wrist and forcing it to his side. She leaned forward, raising her voice so she could be heard through the door.

"I apologize, milady. Ignore the idiot mage, he get jealous easily. Soon we will leave you alone, we were simply dropping off food and drink for a friend." Aveline explained her voice gentle. A knock on the door confirmed she had been heard. With a shrug, the guardswoman turned around as she nodded to the water pitcher.

"Would one of you mind filling that up?"

**DA ORIGINS**

….

Howl stood near the edge of the camp, gazing into the woods. Zevran usually would think nothing of it if it hadn't been for the fact the mage had been standing stock still for well over an hour. His eyes were focused on something only he could see from where the blond elf stood. With a sigh he went over, putting a hand on his smaller companions shoulder to draw his attention.

"What are you looking at, my little owl? Or do you sense darkspawm?" Zevran asked, peering into the night. Howl sighed, shaking his head as he turned to talk to the assassin. His face was haggard with bags under his eyes. For the last couple of nights he hadn't been getting much sleep. Usually waking up in the middle of the night screaming. Howl never went back to sleep after that, his bedclothes soaked with cold sweat as he relieved the nightmares. He had begun the habit of wandering around the campsite at night with Shigure, or talking with Sten who didn't seem to need much sleep. However, even the stoic presence of the Qunari did not calm the mage.

"_Parva noctuam_." Howl said, sounding tired. When he saw the weird look Zevran was giving him he let out a tired laugh, shaking his head.

"In Latin it means 'small owl'. Or 'little owl', if you want to be picky about it. I taught myself how to speak and write in Latin when I was in the Circle." Howl explained as Zevran nodded in interest. Secretly, he had assumed it was some secret language only mage's spoke. He had heard of Latin, for scholars talked of it being the 'mother language'.

"I assume you taught Shigure to understand Latin as well?" Zevran asked with a hint of amusement. He knew the mage to utter strange phrases not in English to the hound. At this Howl's face brightened with a smile, for a moment the exhaustion disappearing from his face.

"Only a few commands he already knows. The one I said to him o is "knock Zevran over". Next thing you're in the river. My favorite past time." Howl said with a light laugh.

Zevran smiled in response, stepping closer to the mage. It was late, and Sten had retired to his own tent a while ago. Alistair would soon wake up to guard the camp with Shigure who seemed to be able to be awake every hour of everyday. This was his chance to draw him in.

"Howl." Zevran said, drawing the attention of the mage. Howl had begun to gaze at the forest again as he expected a creature from legend to step through. At the sound of his name he dragged his gaze back to focus on the assassin.

"Hm?" Howl asked. With a gentle hand, Zevran slowly wrapped his arm around Howl's waist. He felt a slight resistance as the mage tried to pull away, but he relented. Pulling him closer so their chests touched. Zevran bent his head, catching Howl's lips in his. He heard a shudder sigh of contentment echo from the mage's slim frame as he relaxed in the assassin's grip. A shaking hand reached up and brushed Zevran's hair with feather light touches. Settling on stroking his braid with trembling fingers.

Pulling back from the kiss, Zevran gazed down at the mage. Howl's lips were slightly bruised from the kiss, his cheeks flushed with desire. His eyes glittered bright with unfamiliar lust as he opened his mouth, meaning to speak before he was cut off.

"You have so many restless nights don't you, my dear Warden? There is a cure for such a thing. Though, you may not want to do it." Zevran whispered, bending over to kiss Howl on the forehead. Howl's cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. He was unused to be shown affection from anyone but Shigure.

"At this point, Zev, I'm willing to do anything. Even consort with a Sloth Demon to put me back to sleep." Howl said with tired laugh. Zevran felt a flicker of worry, but shoved it away. Howl may not be the strongest of mages, but he certainly wasn't one to fall so low as to consort with one of those evil creatures. With a smirk, he pressed their bodies closer as he felt his member stir. Oh yes, this would be quite easy indeed.

"You're tense. Your body feels hot and cold at the same time, flickering in an out like a dying ember. You need to relax, Howl. To engage in more…pleasurable activities." Zevran whispered, his warm breath tickling Howl's ear. His voice had fallen to a sultry rumble that sent shivers up and down the mage's spine. Blush deepening even more, Howl turned his head away from the assassin.

"I'm flattered, Zevran, truly. Only that…I've never…" Howl stuttered as he eyes looked down in shame. Clucking his tongue, Zevran put his hand under Howl's chin. Forcing him to look him in the eye as he kissed those soft lips once more.

"Then I will be more than honored to show you what true passion for another is." Zevran replied, his voice falling even further to a feather light whisper. When Howl gazed up into his eyes he a wet pale orbs reflecting the low flames of the fire. Cast in the pale light Zevran glowed, appearing to be the embodiment of desire itself. Taking a deep breath, Howl pressed the entire length of his body against the assassin's.

"Show me." Howl demanded breathless. Zevran smirked, wrapping his fingers around a slim wrist as he turned around. Leading the mage towards his own tent so they may spend the night together.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Even though Howl and Zevran are romancing each other, I read the Origins parts and get the impression of a sibling love rather than a romantic one. Oh well, it's cute in its way. Usually I don't approve of pairing an extremely cute character with a rough and tumble kind, but Howl isn't all daisies and flowers. _


	13. Pursuit

**Chapter 14**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _My boyfriend is jealous of Fenris now. I told him at least Fenris is a fictional character and thus no real competition. Then my boyfriend goes and asks "What if Fenris was real?" Oh, the things I would do…drinking party first of all. LOL_

"Is really okay for us to just _leave_?" Anders demanded as Aveline, Donnic, and Varric were already walking out the door. Varric hung back to talk with the mage as Aveline was all but shoving her husband out the door.

"What do you want me to do? Break down the door and demand the woman to tell us who she is? Clearly, she's with Fenris. And if she isn't speaking to us then clearly Fenris doesn't wish for us to know about her. If you want to risk his wraith, be my guest." Aveline said with a roll of her eyes. Anders furrowed his brow as the two guards left, walking down the pathway towards the entrance. He sighed, about to follow them when Varric stopped him.

"Do you remember that elf I told you about? The one Hawke is searching for?" Varric asked the mage, his tone serious. Anders nodded, recalling Hawke mentioning an Antivan elf by the name of "Zevran". The former assassin had given them the slip yesterday and fled. Varric lowered his voice, glancing at the retreating figures who didn't seem to notice two of their party chose not to follow.

"I think that's the elf I saw in the window." Varric whispered, which made Anders glance back up the staircase. Hawke had described him in great detail, and he tried to match the description to the fleeting figure he had seen in the windowsill. Tanned skin, certainly, and light blond hair. But why…

"Andraste's tits, he seduced Fenris!" Anders said, realization sinking in. Fenris had reported he had found nothing, but he _had_ been alone. Merrill had mentioned the lyrium elf had looked particularly tired as if he had run from Kirkwall to Denerim in a day. _What if he had carried someone…_

"What if we're wrong, and it's really a woman?" Anders asked as he and Varric crashed up the stairs. Varric just smirked, drawing out Bianca as he reached the top and headed towards the door.

"We say we're awfully sorry, hand her a couple of sovereigns, and swear by the Maker we never saw her to Fenris. Come on, Blondie, what do you take me for? I can be a gentleman when I want to be." Varric said with glee despite knowing he would most likely be dealing with Fenris tomorrow. When he reached to door, Varric kicked it in with a force that slammed the door against the wall.

He had expected to see a beautiful woman on the bed, perhaps reading a book. Or oiling her skin in the moonlight. Instead, he saw nothing more than a messed up bed with the sheets pulled back. A stack of books lay on the nightstand beside an empty goblet. The only thing that gave any hint to what had happened were the curtains pulled back to let in the moonlight. Varric dashed to the window, sticking his head out to find the woman. He saw the flutter of cloak as a figure zipped around the corner. He cursed, pulling his head back in and nearly crashing into Anders as he pounded back down the stairs.

"Come on! She went this way!" Varric shouted over his shoulder at the startled mage. He couldn't say for sure, but he was absolutely _positive_ it was the other elf. Anders huffed and puffed after him, nearly falling down the stairs as he sprinted after the dwarf.

How in the world could someone shorter than him be faster?

…

Zevran flew past the two startled forms of Aveline and Donnic. He didn't bother to conceal himself as he slid on the stones, nearly losing his balance as he darted into an alleyway. He could already hear the pounding of feet behind him as the guards shouted, rushing after him. Varric was yelling obscenities at the mage to keep up as he weaved in and out of alleys trying to lose them. Sweat was pouring down his brow, getting into his eyes making it hard to see. There was no place for him to go inside of Kirkwall. Zevran felt spreading warmth along his side and cursed under his breath, feeling the warmth seep down his leg. He had reopened his wound by the metallic scent of blood flooding his nostrils.

Stopping to catch his breath, he crouched in a trash heap to hide from prying eyes. He strained his ears to listen for sounds of pursuit. In the distance the shouts of his pursuers bounced off the walls of Hightown. Zevran concentrated on breathing through his mouth to lessen the stench of the garbage he knelt in. It seared down his throat and almost made him gag, but he kept his breathing shallow and quiet as he waited. Eventually the shouts traveled down towards the Chantry so he was able to rise from his hiding place. Glancing over his shoulder, Zevran kept his eyes sharp for gangs roaming the streets as he weaved his way out of Hightown.

He knew Fenris and Isabela had headed out towards the Wounded Coast "searching" for any signs of him. He knew they wouldn't have wandered far, only lingered outside the city to give the illusion they were working.

Zevran stayed in the shadows of Hightown, slipping from building to building until he could hear the distant crash of waves upon the coast. Picking up the pace, he hurried past the city gates at a fast lope. His breathing sounded ragged and desperate in his sharp ears. Earlier he had torn off his shirt and used it as a second bandage to staunch the bleeding in his side. He had a wary sense of dejavu as he traveled out to the Wounded Coast and let out a grim laugh at the thought. Hadn't he just been in this same situation only yesterday?

Limping by this point he ignored the agony in his side and the weariness in his limbs as he walked in a blind haze towards Sundermount. He stumbled, his knees hitting gritty sand as he struggled to get back up. Damn, this wasn't good. He would be easy pickings for any thief who came along. And to think, he didn't have a single thing worth stealing on him! Well, they may take his boots to begin with. Fine Dalish leather crafted from a Halla hide the tribe had given him in thanks for defeating the Archdemon. Zevran felt a cold laugh ripple up his throat at the thought. He hadn't been there to see the great beast fall!

As he staggered and limped along, Zevran began to sway slightly. He hadn't realized he was so weak. Earlier, he had felt almost renewed with the food and water in his system. Now he was seeing spots before his eyes as he quested to find the other elf. He remembered distractedly the eerie blue glow of Fenris's tattoos. Those were no normal markings, to be sure.

At the thought of the markings Zevran thought he was seeing illusions now. In front of him he saw the streak of blue in the night and dark figure raising a sword above his head. Letting out a battle cry as he brought it crashing down in a geyser of blood. Only when he saw the darting figure of Isabela did Zevran realize his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Calling on a last reserve of energy, he raised his head and hurried towards the fighting pair.

"FENRIS!" Zevran shouted as loud as he could. To his dismay it came out as nothing more than a desperate gasp. Thankfully, Fenris had heard it and his head whipped around to see who had called his name. His eyes still had the crazy gleam of battle that came with slaughtering an enemy. When his gaze locked on the figure lurching towards him his pupils shrank to pinpricks. With a snarl and curse in Tevinter, Fenris charged at Zevran.

Shocked, Zevran stopped in his tracks. Thinking perhaps the other elf thought him an enemy, he ripped off his hood. His hair instantly blew free in the rising wind, whipping across his face temporarily blinding him. Zevran brushed the annoying hair out his way just in time to see Fenris surging up towards him. Teeth bared in a grimace righteous fury burning in his eyes.

"MOVE!" Fenris screeched, knocking the former assassin to the side as an afterthought. Zevran smashed into the rocks, banging his head on one. He saw stars before his eyes but didn't pass out. He turned astonished he was still alive just as Fenris stabbed his great sword into the belly of the Tal'vashoth that had been standing behind Zevran. Zevran stared aghast at the blood shed as Fenris ripped his sword to the side. Guts spilled to the ground pooling at his feet as the Tal'vashoth, a look of surprise on his face fell.

Silence preceded the scene of bloodshed. Bodies and assorted appendages lay on the ground like macabre dolls waiting to be put back together. Isabela was walking towards them, bending down to wipe her daggers clean on the stained shirt of one of the fallen. They had been ambushed on their way back to Kirkwall. Fortunate for her these thieves would no longer trouble any other travelers. As she straightened up she caught sight of Zevran who was sitting in the sand, legs splayed out in front of him as he studied the carnage. Fenris stood only a few feet away from him, breathing hard from the killing as wiped a smear of blood from his forehead. Remembering he had someone to yell at, Fenris turned towards the blond who watched him warily.

"Twice now you've banged my head against a hard object, my friend. Are you indicating you enjoy my company so much?" Zevran asked sarcastically, his tone biting. Fenris frowned in response as in three long strides he was towering over the weaker elf.

"What are you doing here? You were supposed to remain at the mansion." Fenris scolded him. Despite the situation Isabela had to suppress a loud guffaw. The way Fenris had his hands on his hips reminding her of a mother scolding a child. Zevran, on the other hand, apparently didn't see the humor in the situation.

"Tell me, my dear Fenris, is it normal for your friends to walk into your mansion whenever the fancy strikes them?" Zevran spat glaring at the lyrium elf. Sensing a fight was about to break out, Isabela hurried over to them. She may have no loyalties to the man that had killed her husband, but she certainly couldn't stand by and watch him be killed.

"Alright, ladies, don't get your skirts in a bunch. I'm sure you both are just as pretty as all the others." Isabela said, raising her voice to get their attention. Fenris and Zevran gave her identical withering glares. She raised a brow in response as Fenris coughed, glancing back the blond who was struggling to get back on his feet.

"Yes, they do tend to drop by unexpectedly at times. I take it you ran away from them?" Fenris asked his tone less scolding this time. Zevran glared at him in response his mouth set in a grim line. The lyrium elf sighed, going over and kneeling next to the former assassin. With surprising gentleness he reached down and pulled back the cloak. Fenris let out a soft hiss when he saw the dark stain of blood on the bandages. He was shocked Zevran hadn't passed out on his way to the Wounded Coast. If he hadn't saved him when he did, the Qunari would have certainly finished him off.

"We need to get Anders, Fenris. He's not going to survive with that injury." Isabela, having come over to kneel next to him. She reached out and lightly brushed her hand against the bandages worried for the assassin. Under other circumstances she would admire the expanse of bare chest in front of her, dark swirls of tattoos wrapping around Zevran's body. In this case, however, he was deathly pale and kept jerking his head up. If he fell asleep, she suspected he would not awake.

"Stay awake, Zevran. Try to guess the color underclothes Fenris wears. I think they're black." Isabela stated, Fenris sneered at her but reached out a gauntleted hand to Zevran's shoulder and gently shook him. Zevran narrowed his eyes, his eyelids fluttering as he opened them to focus blearily on the two people in front of him.

"Mmmm. No, not black. You wouldn't be able to make it out against his skin. Red." Zevran said, his eyes beginning to slide closed his head beginning to fall to the side. Fenris violently shook the other elf causing the blond to snap his head up on full alert.

"You're wrong, guess again. Come on, I'll carry you." Fenris said, standing up to fix his sword to his back. Once it was secured, he knelt and easily scooped Zevran up. Carrying an unconscious Zevran versus a conscious one were two completely different experiences. The first being the fact that said elf is unable to protest and is limp. The latter being said elf is awake and aware of the situation and able to verbally and physically protest being manhandled.

"I'm fully capable of walking, Fenris! You need not sweep me off my feet like a damsel in distress." Zevran protested much to the annoyance of Fenris. Isabela smirked, chuckling under her breath as she followed the pair back to Kirkwall. Fenris bristled, letting out a low growl in response causing his chest to vibrate. Zevran felt the vibration, even threw the spiked armor, and found it oddly comforting.

"You complain enough, not to mention you were stuck in a room in the tallest tower." Fenris replied causing Zevran to glance at him in surprise. Isabela raised her eyebrows at the dark elf joking. She knew he did, as a matter of fact, possess a sense of humor. He hardly let it show when it came to the others. Often times making the odd comment or joke with such a straight face you didn't catch it until he had already uttered the punch line.

Zevran twisted his body trying to break free of Fenris's grip. The stronger elf let out a low growl as he tightened his hold nearly squeezing the blond to death. When the body in his arms continued to squirm Fenris had to resist digging his gauntlets into the delicate skin. Forcing himself to take a deep breath he glowered at Zevran, scowling impressively to make his point.

"_Enough_. Either I carry in my arms or throw you over my shoulder. Which is it?" Fenris snapped. Imagining Zevran being carted around like sack of potatoes made Isabela smile. The former assassin narrowed his eyes at the warrior, judging whether he meant it or not. Fenris shifted his arms, moving as if he meant to throw the blond over his shoulder just as a tanned arm reached and draped around his neck and shoulder. Slim fingers curled slightly as they gripped his armor.

"No need, my Lord Fenris. I shall than be more then honored to be carried by such a handsome knight. No wonder I've been swept off my feet." Zevran purred, and Fenris toyed with the idea of flinging the former assassin into the ocean.

He muttered a quiet curse in Tevinter, beginning to walk back to Kirkwall. Isabela shook her head in sympathy as she trailed after them. As they were walking, she came up close to Fenris's shoulder and lowered her voice so only he would hear.

"Your assassin." Isabela whispered with a soft chuckle when forest green eyes shot her a glare.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I imagine if Fenris had a song it would be Never Too Late by Three Days Grace. Wouldn't that be just lovey if he had a music video with that song? LOL_


	14. Halla

**Chapter 15**

**DA ORIGINS**

It came as no surprise to Zevran when Howl began to avoid him after their little escapade. Every time the little mage chanced to sneak a glance at him, Zevran gave him a knowing smile. A blush came over the younger elf's cheeks as he hastily turned away and promptly hid behind his other companions. It was only on their way back from a visit to the Circle of Magi he began to notice Howl's eyes trailing not to him, but to Alistair.

A sad longing lingered in Howl's gaze, quickly switching to a bright smile when his fellow Grey Warden turned to talk to him. Alistair appeared to be the only person who could be called an actual "friend" compared to the others. Sten was nothing more than a guardian, a protector of sorts towards the small mage. Shigure was….well, he was a dog. Mabari were inclined to love their owners no matter what.

Wynne as well gave off a protective air when around the mage. Often Howl would talk to her or listen as she told him a story about the Grey Wardens. On the other hand Wynne acted grandmotherly towards Alistair and Oghren as well. So perhaps it was the whims of an old woman rather than a natural inclination to care for others.

"My presence does not please you, Owl?" Zevran asked finally. They had finally made their way, much to his annoyance, to the Dalish. Howl had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since their arrival. He was polite towards the Keeper and asked a few questions, but then wandered off to gaze at the Halla. They had been on the road for a couple of days with bad weather and had been welcomed to rest before setting out to search for Wither Fang. Howl turned his head at the comment, but just shrugged as he turned his attention back to the white deer.

"No, Zev, it's not you. Just…other things." Howl said quietly as one of the Halla stopped grazing to peer at them. A fawn was eagerly feeding from under it as the great beast sauntered up to them. Howl bent down and pulled up long grass outside of the pen, holding it out to lure the Halla closer.

"What sorts of other things? The others are not here, and we appear to be in the company of no one but the Halla. Come, tell me my dear Warden. It will ease your mind." Zevran said gently. Howl looked haggard with bags under his eyes as he leaned tiredly on the railing. He had propped his staff up against the tree, but didn't seem to care when it fell over.

"Yesterday, I woke up and it suddenly occurred to me I have no idea what to do after we kill the Archdemon. Then I realized if I did happen to survive, I would probably be forced to go back to the Circle." Howl answered, his voice wavering as he said it. Zevran glanced sharply at Howl who didn't meet his gaze. Instead pulling his hand in forcing the Halla to come closer to eat the succulent grass.

"Why ever would they send you back? After killing such a beast, I'm sure whoever is ruling at the time will let you have whatever you want. Surely you have some idea of what you want in the future?" Zevran asked, curious now. It had never occurred to him they would survive the Blight, but he supposed out their group a few had to live to tell the tale. Or not. They could always be killed by Darkspawn and never meet their foe to begin with. Howl sighed, allowing the Halla to eat the grass as he reached out to gently pet it on the head.

"The only thing I want is you." Howl said, this time raising his eyes to lock gazes with Zevran. For a moment the assassin was simply surprised then felt anger rise quick and hot in his chest. He felt a sneer develop as he shot a glare at the mage.

"Oh? I suppose I could stay in the basement as you and Alistair celebrate your victory." Zevran snarled, shocked at the rise of jealousy in himself. It hadn't even occurred to him he felt possessive of Howl until that moment. Howl stared at him, open mouthed as he wiped his hand on his robes. The Halla leaned its head over the fence, hoping for more grass.

"I...that is….it's none of your fucking business!" Howl shouted back, causing a few heads to turn. Thankfully, only the Halla appeared to be listening in on the conversation but now Zevran was pissed. Narrowing his eyes he stepped closer to the mage as his voice descended to a low rumble as he glared down at the shorter elf.

"It is if I'm the _thing_ you want most, Howl. I've seen the way you look at Alistair. I was raised by whores, I know an unrequited love when I see it." Zevran said, his tone biting. Howl opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it and closed it. Noticing the Halla, he yanked up another fistful of grass and held it out in offering to the eager animal.

"I know." Howl said his voice quiet. Zevran crossed his arms, wanting nothing more than to force the mage to look at him. Howl took a shuddering breath before raising his eyes to focus on the assassin.

"I know, Zev. I'm sorry it's just…Alistair was the first person who didn't care I was a mage _and_ an elf. We joked about me being a mage and I just thought…well, you know how he is." Howl said with wave of his hand. Zevran held his tongue to keep back the biting insult in his throat. He did know what he had thought, and had noticed it beforehand. To be treated as an equal rather than an inferior did cause one to pause. Even to become attached to the one who had shown you a different way of things. The thought brought back the ghost of Rinna, lingering in his mind's eye for a moment. Her blood spreading in a slow puddle from a slit throat. Taking a shuddering breath, he focused on what was happening in front of him as he nodded in understanding.

"Well, Howl. If you wish to pursue your fellow Grey Warden, be my guest. I have no problem stepping aside for such things. You have my blessing for what it's worth, and I hope Alistair makes a good wife." Zevran said, taking on a neutral tone. He spun on his heel and before he could think as already walking away back towards the Dalish camp. He heard a small gasp behind him but didn't turn his head. The stinging in his eyes surprised him but he refused to give in even as he heard the pounding of feet behind him.

"Zevran! ZEVRAN! Gosh dammit, you stupid nug humper, would you wait a minute? Let me explain!" Howl yelled, reaching the assassin and latching onto his wrist. Without even looking Zevran spun, his leg catching the back of Howl's calf. With a yelp the mage fell backwards, but he kept a death grip on the stronger elf and brought him down with him. Zevran's lips were set in a grim line as he reached out with his free hand and grabbed Howl's slim wrist giving it a sharp twist. A yelp came from Howl and immediately he let go even as the sharp crack echoed in the clearing. Howl's face became white as scrambled back from the assassin, smacking his head on the fence as he rose to his feet. His wrist clutched to his test as he took in short breaths. Zevran felt his heart fall to the bottom of his boots as he rose up, his face just as pale.

"Saarebas." Came a deep voice. Howl and Zevran simultaneously turned their heads to see Sten standing among the trees watching them. Zevran couldn't read the expression on the Qunari's face but he could sense the rage in him. Sten's eyes fell to Howl clutching his broken wrist to chest, tears fogging up his glasses than to Zevran standing to the side staring at him with surprise.

Sten was already strolling across the clearing, his eyes smoldering as his hand closed around the hilt of his sword. Seeing what he meant to do Howl darted in front of the enraged Qunari stepping on the toes of his boots as he tried to stop him. Zevran half expected Sten to keep walking but the Qunari stopped his gaze fixating on the small elf.

"Move, _Saarebas_." Sten ordered, but the mage frantically shook his head. Glasses nearly falling off with the motion. Still shivering from the pain of his wrist, Howl reached up and laid his good hand on Sten's elbow, turning his head up to lock gazes with the Qunari. Zevran wondered if Howl was going to describe exactly how he wanted the Qunari to kill him.

"Sten, _please_. It was an accident." Howl said, his voice shaking. He didn't seem to be aware of balancing on Sten's boots. The scene would have been funny and downright cute if not for the circumstances. Sten's hand was still fisted around the hilt of his sword as his eyes flickered to look at Zevran. He returned the stare but was reluctant since he suddenly wanted to look down at his own boots.

Zevran couldn't believe he had just broken the small mage's wrist. It had been instinct, years of training honed to defend himself. Howl was giving the Qunari an imploring look that just begged to be answered. Finally, something gave between the two as Sten let go of his sword. Going down on one knee to look the mage in the eye. Even kneeling Sten was an inch taller than Howl who was forced to step back.

"Let me see, _Saarebas_." Sten said, holding his hand. Howl held out his broken wrist and it looked fragile in the large palm of the warrior. Despite himself Zevran stepped closer suddenly feeling an urge to comfort him. Catching the assassin's eye, Howl gave him a weak smile despite looking a bit green.

"It's fine, Zevran. I'm still breathing, aren't I?" Howl said with a nervous laugh. Without warning Sten twisted the wrist and an audible _pop_ echoed in the clearing. Howl cried out in pain and automatically his hand clenched reflexively. Zevran stared in amazement and relief as Howl came to the slow realization his wrist was no longer broken. It had, as a matter of fact, been dislocated.

"Be careful of whom you insult, Saarebas. I can't always be here to protect you." Sten said his voice grim as he rose. He nodded to Zevran as he brushed past him back towards the Dalish camp. A few of the Dalish elves had concerned looks on their faces and were peering at the pair from the hilltop. Upon seeing the Qunari they hastily moved out of the way to allow him passage. Howl didn't even pretend he didn't see the inquisitive elves as he gave them his broadest grin, waving enthusiastically as if he were about to leave on a long voyage. Sharp glares were shot the young mage's way but eventually the crowd backed up. All except for Zatharian, who had crossed his arms and shook his head at the young mage. Howl just raised an eyebrow in reply, but turned his back to the Keeper in favor of speaking to Zevran.

"Well, at least I can sleep easy knowing how hard it is to kidnap you." Howl said. Zevran stared at him wondering where the earlier anger had gone. Hesitantly, Zevran reached out and lightly touched the bruised wrist. Howl winced, but allowed the assassin to raise the injured limb to his mouth and gently kiss the inside of his wrist. He heard the blue eye mage take a sharp breath as he breath tickled over the untouched skin.

"I am yours." Zevran said without a second thought. He froze, raising his eyes to meet Howl's. Instead of an astonished expression Howl was gazing at him his eyes soft as he a smile graced those sweet lips.

"As I am yours." Howl whispered, his eyes glittering. For the first time since Rinna, Zevran felt his heart beat a little faster at the thought of having someone at his side.

…

"He's going fast, Fenris. I'm not sure even Anders can help him." Said a light female voice above his head. Zevran furrowed his brow, struggling back to the surface of consciousness. He heard the low rumble of the dark elf but couldn't make out the words. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a low moan he could barely hear.

Zevran didn't recall much past Fenris carrying him, again, back to Kirkwall. Somewhere outside the city gates he memory became foggy. He had felt his body being shaken by but was too tired to respond. Now he heard the disembodied voices talking again over his head as small, warm fingers pressed against his wrist. Feeling for a pulse as another pair prodded his side.

"He has a fast heartbeat, but it isn't strong. Do you know how much he lost?" Asked the light, female voice. Zevran turned his head by slight degrees, trying to find the strength to open his eyes. The next moment he heard the deep rumble of Fenris's voice and his heart quickened.

"A lot. To much, I'm afraid. His wounds reopened when he was running away from Anders and Varric." Fenris answered, his voice strained. Zevran managed to crack his eyes open enough to see Fenris stood next to him. Or rather, whatever Zevran happened to be laid out on. It felt like a bed judging by the pillow he finally noticed was under his head.

"Oh, poor thing! Hang in there, Zevy! Once we find Anders we'll bully him into making you well again." Said the female voice, and the tattooed face of young female elf came into view. Zevran thought belatedly she was cute, her eyes wide and shinning with curiosity as she studied him. Seeing him focus on her she yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin. Fenris stared at her as if she had just gone mad. Merrill coughed, politely nodding to the prone figure on the bed beginning to stir.

"Your assassin is awake." Merrill announced. Fenris blinked at her in surprise, shifting his body to look down at the other elf. Zevran blinked slowly, trying to focus. He had thought Fenris was standing next to the bed but when he turned his head enough he caught sight of Fenris's hip. A hand rested on the side of his head, brushing back his hair. The sensation was pleasant as a calloused thumb gently brushed over his temple. Somewhere at the back of his mind he realized this wasn't normal for Fenris but he just gave out another low groan. His eyes sliding closed again as the darkness swept over his head.

"Don't call me Zevy." Zevran said before he passed out.

Fenris clenched his fist in the soft locks. He could almost see the other elf's life slipping away. A steady pulse of light fading away each time his heart beat. Getting to his feet he walked over to the wardrobe where he had laid down his gauntlets. Picking them up and sliding them on, locking each one into place with an audible _click_.

"I'm going to Hawke's to fetch Anders. Keep him alive until then." Fenris said to Merrill. He heard the girl squeak behind him in response, but quickly darted back to her fireplace. Lifting the tea kettle from its place so she could make her herbal tea.

"Fenris, it's not up to me. It's up to…the higher forces whether he survives or not." Merrill said, her voice shaking as she said it. She didn't want to be offensive by referring to the Maker or to any of the Dalish elf gods. Fenris fixed her with a green eyed glare which pinned her in place. Isabela had left half an hour ago to look for Anders.

"Isabela will find him, I'm sure. I…I've seen this before and…it helps for them to stay if they know someone, well, _needs _them here." Merrill explained, her voice shaking. The tea kettle wobbled dangerously back and forth in her trembling hand. She managed to get the majority of hot water into the small cup as she put the tea kettle back on its hook.

Fenris remained silent, lingering near the door as he shot another glance at Zevran. He had barely known him a day and yet the slim figure whose life hung on a thread called out to him. Zevran looked vulnerable laying there as if waiting for someone to cut him open. With a sigh he went back to his vigil on the bed. Reaching out to brush a finger against Zevran's cheek. It felt cold and clammy to the touch, as if he was already dead.

"For his sake, I will stay."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I feel like kind of an idiot because literally the story went in a full circle. Yet I don't have the heart to go and delete the stuff I just typed. I do apologize, but at the same time I'm secretly glad because Fenris gets drawn closer to Zevran._


	15. Can you keep a secret?

"No, absolutely not! This is betrayal, Hawke will call me traitor. Declare me an apostate!"

"You already are an apostate, and I'll deal with Hawke. It's redundant to resist when you're already in the process of healing him." Fenris snapped from the back of the room.

Isabela had eventually managed to track down and drag back Anders. Fenris wasn't sure what she had said to convince him to come alone with her without Varric. However, he had caught snippets of their conversation which seemed to consist of pastries accompanied by dried lizards. He didn't even begin to think of what she had done to accomplish the task.

Anders was indeed already healing the former assassin, a soft golden glow radiating from his hands as he held them over the prone figure. Zevran hadn't stirred since Anders arrived but already a healthy glow graced the golden haired elf's cheeks. Merrill had walked outside for some fresh air, to calm her head she said. Finally, the blond mage sighed and sat back, wiping sweat from his brow. He glanced up nervously at Fenris who leered at from his position across the room.

"Well, I managed to heal the cuts along this thigh and leg. They'll remain as scars, but they're pale so it won't make much of an impact. For the next couple of weeks he needs to eat _fresh_ spinach, raisins, and slightly rare meat to build his blood back up again. He'll tire easily too, so you'll have to watch him to make sure he doesn't over exert himself." Anders instructed him, already heading towards Merrill's table. He pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and picked up a quill, scribbling the instructions down just in case. It occurred to him Fenris might not be able to read, but he refrained from asking. Fenris nodded, going over to Zevran and peering down at him. Merrill had managed to get an herbal tea down his throat that would make him sleep until morning. Zevran seemed peaceful and didn't have that deadly paleness to his cheeks anymore.

"Will you tell Hawke?" Fenris asked, glancing at Anders. Anders paused, his quill poised over the parchment. He hadn't even considered his current patient was the very man Hawke was hunting down to turn into Nuncio. He had just automatically fallen into healing him as was his nature. He bit his bottom lip, thinking of the best way to word it so his heart wouldn't be pulled from his chest.

"To be honest with you, I don't know. I'm reluctant to tell Hawke _anything_ since I just went through the trouble of saving his life. You could try to keep him a secret, I suppose, but you already saw how that turned out. Varric probably knows it too, he just didn't mention it." Anders admitted, keeping his eyes on the parchment in front of him. He heard a low growl behind him and gulped, hoping he hadn't sealed his own fate.

Fenris shoved his bangs back, only to have them fall back into his eyes. What the healer said was true. More than half of the group knew about Zevran's existence already. Keeping it a secret from Hawke would be nearly impossible at this point. He _might_ be forgiven for keeping the elf since Hawke and he were close friends. On the other hand he doubted Hawke would simply pretend not to notice. If he could just state his case to the mage…

"Don't say anything to Hawke. I'll be at the mansion first thing in the morning with Zevran. If he asks what you were doing, say it was an emergency." Fenris said finally. Anders nodded, folding up the parchment and handing it to him. Fenris gently took it, tucking it into his armor for safekeeping. Already he was wondering how in the world he was going to afford fresh meat and vegetables. He doubted he could rely on Hawke at this point in time. At that moment Merrill came back in wringing her hands nervously. Isabela noticed the nervous elven mage and motioned her over to the couch where she was sitting.

"What's wrong, Kitten? Mean men bothering you?" Isabela asked. Merrill gave her a shy smile and shook her head in the negative.

"No, just tired. Fenris, you and Zevran can spend the night if you wish. I don't mind sleeping on the floor. I bet Zevy isn't in any condition to be moved around, anyway." Merrill said, glancing at the still figure. Anders coughed, nervously adjusting the cuffs of his robes as he edged towards the front door.

"Well, I better head back to the estate. Hawke is probably worried by now I'm not home yet." Anders spluttered, quickly opening the door.

"Wait, I'll go with you. Don't want some pirate sweeping you off your feet and making you his cabin boy. Come on, I'll protect you." Isabela teased as walked out the door with him. Anders shot her a glare as they left and began to protest such a thing would happen as the door closed behind them. Merrill remembered to lock it before going to her wardrobe for extra blankets. Fenris glanced at the couch then back at Zevran as Merrill began to hastily arrange blankets on the floor.

"I'll sleep beside the bed. You take the couch." Fenris said, suddenly feeling exhausted. He hated himself from relaxing with the blood mage close at hand, but she had kept the assassin alive until help could arrive. Merrill looked up at him surprised, an extra pillow in each hand.

"Oh, are you sure? The floor is rather hard and uncomfortable. I mean, unless your used to sleeping on-"

"I've slept on worse. We are in your house, after all. I took advantage of your hospitality and he may wake up in the middle of the night." Fenris stated. Merrill nodded, trying to hide the relief on her face but failed miserably. She had been nervous she might have to deal with the assassin.

Once she had made a bed for herself on her couch and stoked the fire, she glanced at the other two elves. It felt strange to have Fenris in her home along with his new friend. A small part of her was gleeful for the unexpected company. She secretly hoped they all overslept so she could make breakfast. It was rare she had company at her home other than Hawke from time to time.

"Good night, Fenris. Night, Zevy." Merrill said even though the assassin couldn't hear her. She heard a grunt in reply from Fenris as she blew out the candle.

**DA ORIGINS**

…

"Fear me, mortal!"

Zevran glanced at Howl, who had his eyes narrowed and staff held in front of him in what he assumed was supposed to be a threatening manner. He blinked then turned back to inspecting the tracks they had come across. He heard Howl let out a choked sound as the mage came over, peering over his shoulder curiously.

"I don't scare you?" Howl asked, sounding disappointed. They had had a good night's rest, and had woken early in the morning. Morrigan and Alistair had accompanied them to try and find Witherfang today. It was early afternoon already and Zevran could already hear the low grumbles from Alistair's stomach.

"I find you absolutely terrifying, my Owl. Unfortunately I don't think your announcement will have quite the same effect on these werewolves." Zevran answered. Howl shot him a glare, inspecting the tracks himself. With a sigh he straightened up and nodded towards the path which they had left.

"Let's go back down there for lunch, and then we'll follow these tracks to wherever the hell they go. I'm afraid Alistair might eat some poisonous mushrooms if we wait any longer." Howl said, glancing back at the warrior. Alistair had plucked a long piece of grass to chew on idly. At the comment he promptly spat it out shooting a mock glare at his fellow Grey Warden.

"I would not! I _cook_ stuff before I actually stick it in my mouth!" Alistair snapped. Howl raised his eyebrows at his friend, a small smile on his face.

"Great. So you'd be eating boiled poisonous mushrooms. At least you'd die with a full stomach." Howl said airily. Alistair began to defend this by claiming that by cooking the mushrooms it would thus render them nonlethal. Zevran rolled his eyes looking skyward to the Maker.

"Did we even _bring_ anything to eat? I hope you all don't expect for me conjure something out of the air simply because I'm a woman. Along with the only one who seems to have any sense on what is eatable." Morrigan said loudly. Mage and Templar immediately quieted down, glancing at her guiltily. Zevran chuckled as he rose to his feet and began to head back to the path. Howl hurried after him and soon came to his side. Brushing a hand along his shoulder to get his attention.

"One of the Dalish gave me a pack with some type of dried biscuits in it for us to eat along with dried fruit. I wish we had some bread and jam though. I'm tired of eating all these salted stuff." Howl said, lowering his voice so only Zevran could hear. The assassin smiled, slipping an arm around Howl's waist and pulling him closer. The mage blushed fiercely and tried to squirm away, but was unsuccessful. Zevran tightened his hold so their chests were pressed together.

"Mmm, if you have a sweet tooth I can satisfy your cravings. I suddenly feel ravenous for a certain bookish Owl." Zevran whispered against Howl's neck. He nibbled the delicate skin and heard Howl let out a gasp. He chuckled as he continued giving him love bites until he reached his pointed ears. He gently bit the tip, working it between his teeth. Immediately a shudder of suppressed pleasure passed through the smaller elf. A low moan echoed in Zevran's ears, too low for their arguing companions to hear.

"Right. Well then, I guess I'll just eat tree bark next time I'm starving to death. Happy? You just ruined several years of my life thinking I knew how to survive." Alistair's voice echoed a few yards away. Zevran stepped back abruptly from a flushed Howl who was just _begging_ to be taken on the spot. Imagining shoving the mage against a tree and just…oh, he had a dirty mind indeed.

"You never survived. You were just extremely lucky and had well timed coincidences in your life. Howl, are you alright? You didn't eat any mushrooms, did you?" Morrigan asked, finally taking notice of their other two companions. Howl's face was completely flushed his breathing uneven as if he had sprinted a long distance. A glance at the smirking Zevran who was innocently studying his one of his gloves she knew what was going on.

"Let's go eat, shall we?" Zevran said teasingly to Howl. Before the Warden could answer he turned on his heel and strode away purposefully back to the path. Still blushing, Howl meekly followed him like a lost puppy. Morrigan followed with Alistair taking up the rear.

They settled in a clearing near a clear stream flowing over rocks. The rushing water mixed with the lazy birdsong made for a pleasant spot. Even the warm sun shining down made the forest seem peaceful. If it hadn't been for the tracks Zevran would have assumed the only dangerous thing in the forest were hungry bears hunting for honeycombs.

The group had spread out blankets right next to the stream to enjoy watching minnows swim about as they ate. Howl sat close to Zevran, sitting cross legged with his journal open in his lap. Near his knee was a bottle of blank ink Howl dipped his quill in, thoughtfully taking a bite of a type of dried biscuit made from cooked fish and berries as he began drawing something. Curious, Zevran leaned over to see what it was.

"Why do always have a book in hand? For a person who spent their life in the Circle, you seem oddly disinterested with the world around you. What is so fascinating you would rather read than talk to me?" Zevran asked. Howl glanced up at him, his spectacles at the end of his nose. Alistair continued on eating pretending to be oblivious. Morrigan on the other hand nodded in agreement.

"Yes, I agree with the assassin. What _is it _in those books you find so amazing?" Morrigan asked. Howl licked his lips, the blush creeping back into his cheeks as he glanced back down shyly at his journal.

"You'll laugh if I tell you." Howl said, nervously twitching. Zevran furrowed his brow, tilting his head to the side in question.

"No, my dear Howl, I would never laugh at you. Truly, I am curious. Will you not tell me?" Zevran asked charmingly. Howl glanced at him, giving him a shy smile. Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded.

"I write down all my experiences in my journal. I also…draw sketches. So I have something to hold on to when this is all over. You see, I want a bit of a reference for when I…I write my own novels." Howl said his voice shaky as he said it. For a moment the group of companions was silent at this new information. Alistair cleared his throat to break the tension as he nodded to Howl.

"You want to write novels? About what?" Alistair asked. At this Howl smiled, glancing at Zevran as if seeking approval as he answered.

"About us. Our adventures, make up my own characters who have to face difficulties like we do. I already know we all aren't going to be together forever. When the Templars came to take me I wasn't allowed to take anything with me but a novel my mother gave me. So I'm writing my own so I can hold a part you guys with me so I won't be so lonely when I have to go back to the Circle." Howl answered, his voice growing more confident as he talked. His light blue eyes never leaving Zevran's face. Everyone was silent, taking in this information. They had all known Howl drew and wrote, but never the reason.

"Why would you go back to the Circle? I thought you wanted to travel before going back." Alistair said eyes wide. Howl closed his eyes a look of tiredness and sadness passing over his usually serene face. Zevran expected him to start crying and was surprised when he opened his eyes again to lock gazes with his friend.

"I am, Alistair. I mean, I've gone to Orzammar, Lothering, Redcliffe, and even met the Dalish Elves. I've seen Andraste's Ashes for my own eyes and confronted Dark Spawn in the Deep Roads. You even ventured with me into the Fade where I could transform into any creature I desired. Besides, before we left the Cirlce Senior Enchanter Irving told me…..told me…." Howl trailed off and closed his mouth. Morrigan coughed, unable to even make a sarcastic comment. She cared for her fellow spell caster even if she acted like she didn't. Zevran felt his chest tighten at the thought of Howl, HIS Howl being locked away for the rest of his life. The very thought made him see a haze of red.

"What did Irving say, Howl." Zevran said, his tone making it an order rather than a question. Howl glanced at him, his eyes shiny with unshed tears as he swallowed before replying.

"He said no matter where I go I'm still a Circle Mage. I belong to the Chantry, and thus must serve there unless my services are needed in another Circle. Otherwise I would be declared an apostate and killed by the Templars." Howl said, looking down guiltily. Alistair stared at him in disbelief his neck beginning to turn a steady shade of red. Morrigan's lips were pressed together in a thin line, her hand shaking with fury as she forced herself to gently set down her half eaten biscuit.

"Bullshit. You're a Grey Warden. The Circle has no right or claim to you since you were recruited." Alistair snarled his voice strained. Howl glanced at him and just let out a cold laugh. It sent a chill down Zevran's spine to hear it. It was the laugh of a man who already knew there was no more hope.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You know what Irving said? He told me 'Since you're such a famous Warden, you'll be expected to uphold certain responsibilities. After you defeat the Archdemon, even more people will look up to you because of your special status.'"

"He then told me because I had originally come from the Circle I still had to serve the Chantry. Being a 'Grey Warden' is just some title bestowed upon me. If I ignored his summons the Templars would assume I'd gone rogue and label me a Blood Mage." Howl snapped, standing up. He snapped his journal shut despite the wet ink and tossed it carelessly to the side. Zevran noticed it landed in a briar patch not far from them.

"So you're just going to give up? Fine, be their bitch. I wonder why mother made me follow you in the first place. She must have meant Alistair was the Grey Warden in the group, not you." Morrigan said, rising as well. Howl, Alistair, and Zevran all gaped at her in astonishment. Then Howl snapped.

"Oh yeah? I'm sorry my mother isn't _Flemeth_ to force two people she rescued on a whim to protect her _whore_ of a daughter!" Howl shouted. His voice rang through the clearing at the accusation. Sensing a fight was about to break out, Alistair had stood up and held his hands out helplessly as if to calm his companions but unsure of which one needed calming. Morrigan's eyes were almost bulging out her head she was glaring at Howl so hard. Her lips were trembling as well as if she had to resist from baring her teeth like fangs.

"It's a good thing than this _whore_ can cast a full fireball spell in battle. Unlike those small candle flames you fling around singing everyone's hair." Morrigan growled her voice harsh as flung the insult into the air. For a moment Howl's face fell as if she had stricken a nerve. Zevran surged to his feet intending to drag his own mage away from the fight kicking and screaming if he had to. Instead of ending it, Howl's eyes blazed and were already darkening to grey storm clouds. Magic sparked at the edge of his fingertips as his eyes blazed.

"You _really _want to go there, _Bitch_ of the Wilds? Fine, we'll go there! My Harrowing was a fluke! Two demons got into a fight over me in the Fade and one killed the other. The only reason I'm not an abomination right now is because I was pulled from the Fade before he could possess me!" Howl screeched, raising his hands as he summoned a spell to his fingertips. Without thinking about it Alistair stepped forward and shoved the mage, hard, back.

"Don't raise your hand to a woman!" Alistair yelled. He had forgotten for a moment Howl was not only a mage, but not as strong as he was. Howl stumbled backwards, his foot catching on the folded edge of the blanket causing him to fall back. Howl landed with an audible _thud_ on the ground, the breath forced out of him. Zevran stared his head whipping back and forth between them. Realizing what he had done, Alistair looked helplessly back at Morrigan who was momentarily surprised as well.

Howl struggled back to his feet, smacking away the offered hand Zevran had put out to help him up. He shot a glare at the assassin as if blaming him for not taking his side. Alistair's face struggled between a full on sneer to a guilty realization of what he had done. The former Templar seemed to switch to the latter; opening his mouth in what Zevran assumed was an apology. Howl beat him to it, however.

"I know you were born a bastard, but I never knew you'd act like one. No wonder your protecting a bitch. You two deserve each other." Howl snapped coldly, tears running down his face. Before either of them could say anything the mage turned around and stormed off back into forest. Suddenly Zevran felt the day wasn't quite as cheery as he had first thought it was. Glancing back at his companions he saw Morrigan looked on the verge of tears as well. She swallowed a sob in her throat and catching the blond elf watching her, she turned her head away. Alistair had the guiltiest look on his face regretting having shoved the small elf. When he made to walk after him, Zevran put out his arm effectively stopping him.

"I will go talk to him. Stay here and talk with Morrigan. He's upset, he won't be in his right mind until he's calmed down." Zevran said his voice neutral. Alistair looked as if he wished to protest, but the look on Zevran's face must have said he meant business because instead the Grey Warden nodded reluctantly.

"Alright. Tell him…tell Howl I'm sorry. It's just wrong to hit a woman, even if she is a powerful witch." Alistair said. Zevran nodded, turning to follow Howl. On a thought he picked up Howl's staff that had been leaning against a tree along with ink, quill, and journal. Behind him he heard the two of them beginning to talk quietly. Alistair appeared to be apologizing to Morrigan for his friend's behavior before he walked out of earshot.

It didn't take Zevran long to find Howl. He had gone back to where they had crossed small makeshift bridges set up across the river. Howl was sitting on a log, head in his hands as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Zevran opened his mouth, a reprimand on his tongue but instead something else came out before he could catch it.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Howl turned around, his eyes red and puffy from crying as he stared at his lover in disbelief. Zevran had frozen as well astonished at his own words. His gaze trailed to the bruise that had bloomed on Howl's right wrist from being dislocated yesterday. Howl blinked, balling up a corner of his robes to wipe his eyes.

"I don't hate you, Zevran. I never could." Howl said his voice calm but obviously astonished. Zevran walked over, gently placing Howl's possessions to the side as he kneeled in front of him.

"Then why did you hit my hand when it was offered to you?" Zevran asked, completely serious. Howl stared at him in complete astonishment as his mind clearly tried to catch up with the current situation. Once it did understanding dawned on his face and reached out taking both of Zevran's hands in his own.

"Oh Zevy, I'm so sorry. I didn't…I don't hate you. I'm sorry, I was just…upset. I love you." Howl said, his voice shaking. He looked as if he were about to burst out crying again. Zevran squeezed Howl's hands in reassurance as he continued.

"Howl, if the Crows ever came after me, would you let them take me?" Zevran asked, waiting with baited breath. Howl blinked again but didn't hesitate in his answer.

"Of course not! I'd kill them long before you even knew about it." Howl protested, actually looking offended. Zevran tried not to laugh, whether from relief or happiness he didn't know.

"Then what makes you think I would ever let the Templars drag you back to that gilded cage? Or any of your companions? Maker's breath, they get one of look at Sten they'll be fleeing for the hills. Believe me when I say I won't let _anyone_ take you _anywhere_. Not unless you willingly and truly wish to go. Even then I may not let you. Actually, on second thought, I'll just take you with me back to Antiva. You'll like it there. Nothing but corrupt politicians, liars, whores, and assassins. Lots of assassins." Zevran said perfectly positive of the fact. A beautiful smile that lit up Howl's entire face as he laughed at the idea. Zevran found himself smiling in return and beginning to laugh as well. He stood up, pulling Howl along with him into a hug. It never ceased to amaze him how perfectly the mage fit into his arms. As if he was made to be embraced by him and him alone. Howl's laughter was muffled in his chest as the mage raised his head, fresh tears in his eyes but they were tears of joy.

"You're such an idiot, you know that? You're the only person I know who can…who can…"

"Make you blush like a virgin touched for the very first time? Quite the truth, my dear Warden. As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember offering to warm your bed when we first met."

"Actually, at the time I thought it meant on a cold night you would lay on my bedroll tucked under my blankets until it wasn't cold anymore. I didn't know it meant….sex." Howl said, beginning to blush. Zevran just threw back his head and howled with laughter, kissing the mage on the top of the head between large guffaws. By the time he managed to stop there were tears of mirth in his eyes as well as he squeezed Howl even tighter.

"I believe that's the first time I've ever heard you say the word. I'm actually a bit scandalized hearing your innocent lips utter it, and I raised by whores." Zevran said, taking deep breaths to steady himself. Small hitches kept catching him off guard because the very thought sent him into a land of mirth all over again. Howl rolled his eyes, nuzzling into Zevran as he replied.

"Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"You were raised by whores." Howl said, his voice falling to a seductive whisper. Zevran was surprised his young mage had never been the one to initiate the act. Usually he needed a bit of prodding and had to be worked up to the point. He let out a low chuckle, remembering suddenly why he had come after the mage in the first place. Instead he settled for a passionate kiss that took Howl's breath away before picking up Howl's belongings, giving him the staff to hold before offering him his arm.

"Much as I would love to provide evidence of such a fact, I do believe a certain witch and fellow Grey Warden are worried about you." Zevran said gently. Howl looked down ashamed, but hooked his arm with Zevran's.

"Will you come with me?"

"I shall remain at your side for evermore, Howl. You need not ask."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Oi, I didn't mean to focus so much on Howl and Zevran these past couple of chapters. I probably should have made Howl and Zevran a completely separate fic, but at the same time I believe the Origins parts show how Zevran evolves from an assassin to a person who fell in love. It also shows how Howl is more…human? Well, I'd say elven but there isn't quite a context for it. LOL I promise Fenris is going to be in the chapters a lot more from now on. _


	16. Rat

**Chapter 17**

"Howl."

Fenris shot up when he heard Zevran's voice. Already on his feet and trying to locate a visible enemy even though his mind was still trapped in the haze of sleep. Once it cleared he had the sense to look down and saw the former assassin shifting weakly, his eyes flickering open as he raised them to focus on the figure looming over him. For a moment the assassin's eyes lit up and his mouth twitched as if he were about to smile. Then reality sunk in and it faded away, causing Zevran to let out a dejected sigh.

"Oh, it's you Lord Fenris. So tell me, how did you sleep?" Zevran asked with a lecherous grin. Fenris glared at him in response, but with less heat than he usually did. He couldn't shake that image of Zevran gazing at him as if…as if…

"Don't call me that. I am not a lord, and I certainly do not act like one. I could just refer to you as pervert for the duration of your stay."

"Could I continue enjoying the special treat of referring to as 'Lord Fenris'?"

"Zevy."

"Don't call me that." Zevran said his tone growing cold. Fenris raised a brow and Zevran sighed, shaking his head.

"Have we come to an agreement?" Fenris asked. He felt as if he were reasoning with a child. It was difficult to pin down Zevran's line of thinking. He was beginning to learn, however, how to deal with him. Behind him Merrill began to stir, mumbling something in her sleep as she rolled over settling into a more comfortable position. Zevran rolled his eyes but he still wore that accursed grin on his face, the bastard.

"Yes, I shall simply refer to you as Fenris. I shall have you know I do so with the deepest regret. A magnificent creature such as yourself should be given a title befit to your beauty." Zevran teased. Fenris felt rage rise in his chest hot and choking. With a great force of will he shoved it back down as he settled for pinching Zevran's upper arm.

"You should thank me you fool. I had to threaten a mage I hated to save your life, and now I risk ruining a friendship of six years due to your lack of sense. Have you no self-preservation instincts at all?" Fenris snapped. Zevran's smirk just widened as he sat up with a groan in bed. He winced when the warrior pinched his arm, rubbing idly at the spot as he answered.

"While I deeply appreciate your hospitality thus far, I do have to ask why. You've gone through an awful lot of trouble to rescue someone who wishes your friend Hawke dead." Zevran said. As soon as it left his mouth he wanted to smack himself on the back of his head. He must have lost more blood than he thought to be stupid enough to pin the evidence on himself. Instead of looking pissed off, Fenris appeared to be faintly amused. A small smirk of his own quirking at the corner of his mouth as he gazed down at him.

"I believe you're doing what human's refer to as 'digging your own grave.' Eager to die, are we?"

"Usually I would say only a good assassin aims for such a lofty goal. I on the other hand have found the past couple of years not only am I no longer a Crow, I much prefer to be alive rather than dead." Zevran answered. Fenris let out a short grunt of amusement, shaking his head at the stupid elf. Zevran was truly an idiot, wasn't he?

"How do you feel? Are you well enough to walk, do you think?" Fenris asked. Zevran furrowed his brow in thought as he considered it.

"I'm a bit light headed and weak to be sure. I can walk fine, I think, if I had a mind too. But for no great distance I'm afraid, my dear Fenris. Why? Where are we?" Zevran asked, finally noticing his surroundings. It wasn't the mansion, but instead more of a glorified hovel. He racked his brain and remembered a tattooed face of a girl peering down at him. He spotted a slim arm thrown over the edge of the couch than a disgruntled head popped up. Eyes bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in several directions as she peered around the room. Noticing her guests were up, she yawned stretching her arms like a kitten as she did so.

"Good morning, Zevy. Morning, Fenris." Merrill said tiredly as she rubbed her eyes. Zevran felt a flash of annoyance, opening his mouth in retort.

"Don't call him Zevy."

Zevran glanced at Fenris in surprise. He would have expected the tone to be mocking considering the circumstances, but Fenris was completely serious. Merrill blinked trying to clear from the sleep from her eyes. Seeing the stern expression on the lyrium elf's face she nodded in assent.

"Sorry, erm, Mr. Assassin. A bad habit of mine to give everyone nicknames. But Varric does it too! He calls me Daisy, Anders is Blondie, Isabela Riviani, and Fenris is Broody Elf." Merrill said confidently. Fenris closed his eyes praying for patience as he heard Zevran let out a low chuckle at the nicknames.

"Adorable. You may call me Zev, though my full name is Zevran Arainai." He informed her. Now that he got a good look at her he had to admit she had that same cute, inquisitive air Howl had. Though she seemed a bit more oblivious to the fact Fenris was annoyed with her as she graced him with a bright smile.

"Thank you! You're cute, too, Zev! Now, since we're all awake what would you like for breakfast?" Merrill asked, tiredness slipping away as she all but beamed at him. Zevran smirked; chuckling as beside him Fenris let out what he thought might be a moan. Yes, definitely oblivious. Howl had been…alive at one point. The thought darkened his morning even though he had lived with the knowledge for past eight years. It would be nine next month.

"Thank you for the offer, Merrill. I have to get Zevran up to Hawke's estate first. I did promise first thing in the morning." Fenris said. Zevran glanced at him as his mind slowly caught up.

"Where are we, by the way? In Kirkwall, I mean." Zevran added hastily. Fenris and Merrill both gave him quizzical looks.

"Lowtown. Oh, Fenris, will Zev be alright traveling so far? Maybe you should carry him like you did here. Or, better yet, have Hawke come here." Merrill suggested helpfully. At the mention of Hawke Zevran's entire face went pale. The elven mage glanced at him in alarm as Fenris put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Zevran noticed he wasn't wearing his gauntlets. So the tattoos graced his fingers as well, did it?

"Remember I said I would be risking seven years of friendship?" Fenris inquired, gazing down at Zevran concerned. Zevran looked up at Fenris and felt as if he were looking at him, truly _seeing_ him for the first time. His forest green eyes were soft, not hard and cruel like he had first thought. The hand on his shoulder had a strong grip, but was hesitant as if scared of bruising the skin. Fenris's expression seemed sad, sympathetic even. Zevran felt a knot in his chest loosen a bit. He was safe. Fenris would protect him from Hawke. Nuncio too, he was sure of it. Though he wasn't sure of why he trusted this particular elf so easily.

"I don't have much of a choice at this point, Fenris. I appreciate the risk you are taking on my behalf." Zevran said. Unconsciously his hand reached up to touch the earring from his first target. Instead his fingers just brushed the hollow of the throat as he realized for a second time a stranger held the earring. He let his hand fall on the sheets, balling them up in his fists instead.

"Do you really have to leave now? I'm sure you two have enough time for a proper meal." Merrill said, getting up from her makeshift bed. Her clothes were wrinkled and rumpled from sleeping on the couch. When she opened the door to peer outside Fenris peeked over her shoulder. Both of them gave simultaneous gasps of horror before Fenris slammed on the door. He barely missed smashing Merrill's fingers as the mage began to emit alarmed squeaks as she hastily bolted the door.

"What in the world are two going on about?" Zevran asked struggling to get out of bed. Instead Fenris seemed completely clueless as to what to do as he and Merrill had both decided to have a panic attack.

"I know, let's hide him under the bed! No one will think to look there with all the rats and mice." Merrill suggested as Fenris bolted the door with a solid _clunk_. The lyrium elf shook his head white locks raising up in a halo around his head with the swift motion.

"No, I have to sneak him out the back. Shit I didn't know I slept in that late." Fenris snapped in reply, leaving the door and going into the backroom. Unfortunately, the only other way out was a grimy window. Fenris could fit Zevran through it if he had to, but by then it would be obvious where they had exited. Not to mention Hawke would already know where he was headed. Hide out at the Hanged Man until the coast was clear? No, of course not. Hawke could just wait outside his mansion until he returned.

"What in the name of the Maker are two _doing_?" Zevran demanded as Merrill snatched up a broom and began stabbing it at her ceiling. Zevran gaped at her wondering if the poor woman had lost her mind.

"Maybe you could slip through the roof? If you wrap your arms around Zev you can drag him into the Fade with you, and slip out. Can you?" Merrill asked as an afterthought. At the mention of traveling into the Fade Zevran shifted uncomfortably in his bed. He coughed, raising his voice to be heard above the two idiots flinging themselves around the hovel.

"What the hell is going on?" Zevran shouted above the ruckus. As if noticing him for the first time Fenris and Merrill gave him identical expressions of astonishment. Zevran had to refrain from laughing unless he broke the small power he had managed to gain.

"It's the middle of the afternoon, and I spotted Hawke thirty yards away from the house." Fenris informed him. Zevran's face went so pale at an alarming speed Fenris feared the golden haired assassin was in danger of passing out. The tattoo on his cheek was a strong contrast against the tanned skin. Licking his lips nervously, Zevran's eyes involuntary glanced at the locked door with a new realization.

"Can you?" Merrill persisted, going over to put her ear to the door. Now she could hear voices outside the door. It sounded like Hawke, Anders, and Varric. Well, Anders was good she supposed but she knew Varric and Hawke was particularly cross with her house guest.

"No. If such were the case, why would I go through the roof when I could just walk through the wall?" Fenris snapped cross with the mage. Merrill's cheeks turned a bright red as she realized how foolish she sounded right when a fist pounding on the door made her jump in fright.

"Daisy? Daisy, you there? Open the door, I need to talk to you." Varric's voice called through the door. He certainly didn't sound angry with her but urgent instead. She glanced guiltily at Fenris and Zevran who were both tense. With a dejected sigh Fenris put a steadying hand on Zevran's shoulder squeezing it in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

"Let him in, we'll deal come what may." Fenris said his voice confident though inside he was secretly trembling. Hawke was going to hate his guts after this. With a nod, Merrill spoke through the door.

"Hang on Varric, let me unlock the door." Merrill called, unbolting it and letting the door swing wide open. Immediately the dwarf stepped through, Hawke and Anders trailing behind him. Spotting Zevran Varric glared at him a sneer on his face. When Hawke stepped through his dark blue eyes locked on the two elves, and then he did a double take when he noticed who was standing next to him.

"I told you. Fenris is hell bent on keeping him." Anders whispered much too loudly in the small crowded space. Fenris glared daggers at the healer who gulped, taking a small step behind Hawke in case he was in danger of his heart being crushed.

"Daisy, how could you? We're on the same team." Varric said disappointment ringing in his voice. He actually sounded sad when he gazed at the young elven mage. Zevran immediately picked up on the relationship between the two. Big brother protecting little sister. Shame his life was in danger at the moment or else he would have thought it was cute.

"Oh, Varric! I'm so sorry, but I-but he-you can't possibly turn in Zevran to that horrible, horrible mean man! He was dying when Fenris brought him here, Varric. Please, don't take him away. Anders and I worked so hard to make sure he survived the night." Merrill desperately implored the dwarf. Her hands clasped in front of her in as a sign of begging. She had even worked up to sobs that caught in her throat her eyes glittering with unshed tears. Varric hesitated, glancing at her than back at Zevran. He could never stand to see a woman cry especially Daisy. Taking a deep breath he steeled himself against those pleading eyes as he forced himself to shake his head.

"No, Daisy, he's dangerous. He gets paid to kill people for a living." Varric warned her shooting a glare at Zevran as if he were a venomous snake. Zevran dug his nails into his palm as he met the dwarf gaze per cold gaze. To think, only yesterday this exact same man had pointed Bianca at him yesterday ready to kill him on a word from the mage leering at him from behind the dwarf.

Hawke glanced at Anders who was nervously plucking feathers out of his coat. They were beginning to blow around the crowded hovel making Merrill's eyes water. Covering her mouth, she let out a high pitched sneeze when one of them brushed past her nose. Varric pawed around in his coat pocket, taking out a mostly clean handkerchief and handing it to the young mage. Hawke reached out and grasped his lover's hand forcing Anders to meet his eyes.

"How about we got back to my estate and discuss this there? I know later I'm taking it out on your ass when no one is around." Hawke stated bluntly. Anders blushed as Merrill let out a small squeak her face turning red as well. Fenris had focused his attention on putting his gauntlets back on and strapping his sword to his back. He remembered to retrieve the cloak Zevran had been using earlier and tossed it to him as an afterthought.

Zevran winced, swinging his legs out of bed and pulling back the sheets. Thankfully his breeches were still intact, but his shoes had either fallen off or been taken. He threw the cloak about his shoulders and clasped it at the neck. The entire time keeping a close eye on Hawke who was eyeing him like a piece of meat. A flicker of movement caught his attention across the room. A rat had dared to poke its nose through a hole in the wall. Completely ignoring the ruckus its head fully came into view as his nose twitched. Spotting a few tasty crumbs the uninvited rat came into full view and made a beeline for the food. Without thinking Zevran scanned the arguing companions for a blade. He spotted a knife strapped to Hawke's hip tucked underneath a fold of robe. Deft fingers snaked out and snatched the blade with practiced ease.

Raising the blade, Zevran took aim then with a flick of the wrist sent the knife sailing across the room. It landed with a solid _twang_ in the middle of the rat's head, pinning it to the floor. Its legs and tail began to thrash and twitch from the shock, and then died away until only the tail or the occasional foot let out a discreet shudder. Then Zevran noticed the room had fallen completely silent. He glanced at the others, raising a brow at Fenris in question.

"Is something wrong, my dear Fenris? I have an affinity for rats." Zevran said as a way of explanation. When he turned his head Varric had leveled his crossbow aimed directly at his head. Fenris reached out and grasped Zevran's upper arm pulling him behind him. Fenris locked gazes with Hawke daring him to try and take the elf away from him. Anders cleared his throat, nodding to the pair as he gave an explanation.

"Told you it was his assassin."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Duh duh duuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Yeah, Fenris is protective of Zevran. I find it cute actually, but at least these two are now together in a way. LOL Oh yeah and don't worry, I write very delicious yaoi scenes though this isn't a, um, erotica fic. I always preferred watching the relationship play out rather than the actual act itself. _


	17. Present

**DA ORIGINS**

Howl peered through a crack of his tent at Zevran before drawing his head back in. Zevran glanced at the mage, wondering what in the world he was up to. They had left the Dalish on good terms even though Zathrian had had to sacrifice himself. Lately he had noticed Howl had become quieter even refusing to talk with Sten as he usually did. He tended to play fetch with Shigure or listen when Leliana told him a story, but seemed distracted. He kept giving Zevran puppy dog eyes but when the assassin invited him to his bed Howl would only walk away. What was he expecting of him?

As night was falling Zevran found he was alone by the campfire. Howl had begged them all to take it easy for three days before heading for Redcliff. Alistair protested they couldn't wait for the lands meet forever, but Howl retorted they would be useless if they were dog tired. Best to take a few days off for themselves, no? Alistair agreed reluctantly, but insisted on sharpening weapons and purchasing new armor from Denerim while they were at it. As it was they were waiting for the merchant Bodahn to return with their new armor.

"Zevy?" Howl whispered, coming out of his tent. Zevran glanced at him in surprise but motioned for the mage to join him. He was surprised Howl had even come out considering he had been in his tent all day. Only coming out to use the bathroom or eat a bowl of stew.

"Sorry I've been avoiding you all day." Howl apologized, going to sit on the log. For once they were no bags under his eyes. Maybe he had been sleeping all day? Zevran remained standing with his arms crossed gazing into the flames.

"I'm quite used to being ignored, my dear Warden. It's only natural once you've lost interest in me you seek your interests elsewhere." Zevran said, trying to hide his mischievous smirk. Behind him Howl gasped, jumping up to come give him a hug.

"No, never! Zevran, I was only-" Howl began but was cut off by kiss. Zevran's arm snaked around Howl's waist pulling him close, their hips pressed together as he smiled maliciously down at the small mage.

"I know. I've often been told how frustrating I am, but I believe it's part of my charm. Now, my dear Howl, why all these sad eyes? You haven't been talking to me lately. Such torture I must endure to be in your presence." Zevran said leaning close to plant feather light kisses along Howl's neck. A small gasp in his ear made his body delightful shivers go up and down his spine. Howl was the only person alive that made his heart quicken at the sight of him. Took his breath away when he came up to him with a smile on his face as if his entire day had been improved by seeing his lover. Zevran chuckled at the thought, working his fingers through Howl's hair as he pulled back to peer into his eyes. Their foreheads touching, hazel gazing into sky blue he whispered:

_The symphony I see in thee_

_It whispers songs to me_

_Songs of hot breath upon my neck_

_Songs of soft grunts by my head_

_Songs of hands on muscled back_

_Songs of thee, come to my bed._

Zevran chanted quietly the words falling easily from his tongue. With soft touches he guided Howl to his own tent into his bed. By then Howl was panting as Zevran laid him down in the downy wolf furs. Secret touches were exchanged between them but with great reluctance Zevran pulled away, removing one article at a time to Howl's annoyance. He laughed when the Warden reached over trying to, quite literally, rip off his leather chest plate himself even though one had to undo the buckles before attempting such a thing.

Impatient to be going on with their activities, Howl had even cast aside his own robes. Yanking them up and over his head to join the growing pile of trappings off to the side. By the time Zevran had moved to removing his boots the mage grabbed him by one of his braids and pulled him on top of him. Chest vibrating with suppressed laughter, Zevran finally gave in.

…

"You didn't even give me time to take off my boots." Zevran complained, though his tone was teasing. Howl lay naked next to him under the covers, his head tucked underneath his arm. Howl raised his head to stare at him hair disheveled from their lovemaking. They both smelled of a slight musk mixing with the dust of the road. Howl glanced down, pulling the covers up to reveal one of his lover's feet. Zevran wiggled his toes to the mage's amusement for emphasis.

"Well, they're gone now. And wasn't it you who said to Leliana something about 'knocking boots'? So who are you to talk?" Howl teased, cuddling back into the assassin. Zevran snorted but complied by curling his body around the smaller elf.

Howl let out a soft sigh his head resting under the hollow of Zevran's throat. Zevran was close to falling off to sleep, even closing his eyes when with a curse Howl sat up. Throwing pillows and strewn clothes everywhere in the tent as he struggled to stand up. Effectively stepping on his lover's stomach in the process.

"BRASKA!" Zevran shouted in surprise as Howl jumped back with a yelp. His foot must have caught on something because suddenly the mage fell through the opening in the tent disappearing into the darkness outside. Zevran stared in complete shock wondering if he should assist his warden or roll over and pretend to be asleep. A second later Howl stuck his head in, a blanket wrapped around waist he clutched with a white knuckled hand squinting at the assassin in the pale light.

"Stay right there! Don't you dare move!" Howl ordered his tone threatening before his head disappeared altogether. Zevran blinked still feeling groggy from being forcibly brought to full wakefulness. He felt pissed at Howl from breaking their comfortable silent reverie.

When the mage returned with a wrapped package to the tent his fury abated to be replaced with curiosity. Blushing, Howl muttered quiet apologies to him as he settled down next him. Zevran rolled his eyes, putting an arm around Howl's shoulders and squeezing him none to comfortably.

"Either I've become so terrible in bed you decided to bring a phallus to join us, or you have a gift for me?" Zevran joked, biting the tip of Howl's ear for emphasis. Howl yelped than punched his shoulder, which didn't have much effect. Seeing his attack was ineffective the mage huffed but instead plopped the package right in Zevran's lap.

"I have no idea what a phallus is because the very sight of you sends me into ecstasy. And yes, I have a present for you pain in the ass." Howl said but blushed when uttering the insult. In bed Zevran was on top since he was inexperienced as a lover. Zevran found it charming and had invited Howl to take the lead on occasion. To his surprise the mage turned him down each time.

"Oh, you should not have told me such a thing Owl. I will certainly find use for such forbidden knowledge later." Zevran said with glee. Howl turned a bit pale at that but hit him on the arm to hide his embarrassment.

"Open your damn present, won't you?" Howl growled, but the effect was lost on his eyes being focused on a pair of boots Zevran had removed after their adventures in bed.

With great deliberation Zevran undid the sloppy knot on top of the present. Howl fidgeted through the entire process even when Zevran folded back the carefully wrapped paper. Altogether the mage finally got the nerve to watch the assassin's face as he finally removed the rest of the wrappings. Zevran remained silent staring in mute surprise at his present.

"Oh, a pair of Dalish gloves." Zevran said for lack of anything else to say. He picked them up turning them over in his hands. They were brand new the heavy cloth not even wrinkled yet. Howl's face fell a bit at his lover's expression. It was more puzzled than glad, after all.

"They're a bit thicker than my mother's. And the embroidery isn't quite the same, but they're Dalish never the less." Zevran said his tone curious as well. Howl glanced down then looked to the side at the reaction.

"I just thought…you might like them. I can get you different ones, if those don't please you." Howl said quietly beginning to scratch his arm for lack of anything else to do. Seeing the hurt mage Zevran felt a warm smile spread across his lips as he leaned forward to embrace the smaller elf. The gloves grasped in his hand as he planted a kiss on Howl's forehead.

"No, no, I am not ungrateful. Only I have never been given a gift for simply the sake of giving it. I thank you, Howl. Truly, I only wish I had something as meaningful to give to you in return." Zevran said pulling pack to gaze down at the small mage. Howl stared at him in surprise then a smile broke across his face as well.

"Zevran, you give me the best gift every day you know that."

"What would that be?"

"When you smile."

…..

"And then…and then…and then…" Howl was saying breathlessly as the group walked along. Zevran watched amused as the mage was practically walking backwards and skipping at the same time. Wynne was smiling at the young mage as Alistair just heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"And then….and then….and then what? What happened?" Alistair demanded. They had come back to Denerim to take gain support from the local nobles. As it were, they had been successful save for Howl insisting on visiting The Pearl nearly every day. Zevran had noticed the glances his companions made when Howl _loudly_ announced he would be going there. As a matter of fact, it was to pay the whore Palen a visit. Howl had shown him the letters he and the whore exchanged with each other. Palen's letters tended to be full of gossip of people he didn't know or a patron he had recently slept with. Currently the whore seemed to be having a on and off relationship with one of the bouncers called Carlos.

"When Sophie opens the door to leave, there's a scarecrow there! Hopping up and down trying to get into the castle! So Sophie slams the door and says to Calcifer 'Make the castle go faster!' So Calcifer does and for the first time Sophie can feel the castle actually _moving_ from the inside. Afterwards she has to sit down because her heart is acting funny from such a fright." Howl explained his eyes bright. Zevran racked his brain for a moment remembering a detail the mage had told them not to long ago. They were on their way back to the estate of the Earl of Redcliff for lunch before heading out again.

"Now, this scarecrow, it is the same one Sophie talked to and threw into the bushes, yes?" Zevran asked. He had to reach out and steer Howl out of the way of two giggling woman behind him to prevent a collision. Howl didn't even seem to notice he just beamed at Zevran.

"Yes! That's why it was following the castle! It was trying to get to Sophie." Howl replied almost jumping up and down. Zevran couldn't help but smile at the eagerness of the mage. Howl always got so lost in the way he told stories. His entire face lighting up as he made gestures to explain, or acting out certain parts for emphasis. The charming bit of it was Howl didn't even seem to be aware he was doing it in the first place.

"I find it remarkable you are able to remember a story, but when I teach you a new spell it simply flies out of your head." Wynne said though she had a kind smile on her face as she said it. This took the wind out of Howl's sails as he glanced at the enchantress with a blank look. A shy smile spread across his face as he fell into step beside Zevran.

"I study, Wynne! Honest I do, it's just I've read the entire book so many times I can probably recite it word for word if I ever chose too." Howl replied with a shrug.

"You know, I was always curious. Why do you like that book so much? The way you go on about it is how some of the Sister's go on about the Chant. Is it really that good? Or is there something you're not telling me?" Alistair asked his tone teasing. Zevran felt Howl grow tense beside him as he considered the question. The mage's mouth went into a thin line as he answered his voice tense.

"No, no, though it is a good book. If I ever find another copy I'll give to you. It's only…it's the only thing I had of my mother's when I first came to the Circle. I snuck it in with me under my shirt. When I read it I feel closer to her." Howl said his voice wavering. Alistair's eyes widened as he realized the bomb he just stepped on. He glanced at Howl, opening and closing his mouth. Wynne even looked surprised glancing at the mage in concern. Zevran knew Howl's situation was a bit different when it came to his view of living relatives. Howl rarely spoke of it, but he knew the most likely scenario his lover's parents weren't dead. From what he could remember of them, they had loved him and had been well off farmers. Where they were Howl didn't know, he was too young to remember. Only it had been far out in the country. For their sake, Zevran prayed to the Maker it was nowhere near Lothering.

"Oh, uh-" Alistair began but Wynne had slipped her arm around the young Templar's, stirring towards a merchant with bouquets of flowers surrounding her.

"Come, I want to see if she has any herbs I may be low on." Wynne said briskly, already walking in that direction. Alistair, always the gentlemen, stumbled as he tried to keep from tripping up the old enchantress. Soon Howl and Zevran were standing alone at the edge of the market, watching the two leave them in the dust. Both remained silent but Howl took the lead now, walking past the shops and well-dressed nobles in the direction of The Pearl. Zevran fell in step beside him keeping an eye on the empty alleyways as they passed by. He noticed a few pickpockets watch the well-dressed pair passing in their midst but avoided them when a dagger was casually flicked out to clean a nail. He knew how to warn others off without having to ever actually slit a few throats. Best to save one's life to pickpocket a less suspecting quarry rather than deal with one who may kill you for the attempt.

"You miss her, don't you?" Zevran asked after a while. Howl sighed, stopping to take off his glasses as he cleaned them on his robes. They were almost to the Pearl now, stuck in one of the back alleys.

"I'm sorry, Zev, it's just sometimes I dream of her, you know? The book I have, _Howl's Moving Castle_ it has her writing in it. Whenever I felt lonely, or scared, I would read it. For a while I wouldn't be in the Tower but traveling in the castle with Calcifer on my way to defeat the Witch of the Waste." Howl said wistfully as he put his glasses back on. Zevran wished he could relate to Howl tell him the longing went away in time. But knowing one had living relatives out in world, even parents who may be waiting for your return was tempting. Zevran was even surprised Howl had agreed to follow the Grey Wardens at all in favor of seeking his parents.

"I suppose it wouldn't help if I said they must miss you as much as you miss them? I do not know your parents, Howl, but to think that they had you…they must be good people." Zevran said awkwardly. Howl glanced at him then laughed, the sadness fading from his eyes as he shook his head.

"I'm sure they do, Zev. After I defeat the Archdemon, when I find them I'll introduce you to them. I wonder what my mother would think of me being with a Crow?" Howl said teasingly, continuing into the alley. Zevran returned the smile but at this idea his heart felt as if it skipped a beat. Being introduced to Howl's mother…let alone any decent mother in particular as a potential suitor for their child made his head spin. Glancing back at the mage's retreating back he opened his mouth to ask him if he thought such a thing was a good idea when he saw a familiar face from the corner of his eye.

_No, it couldn't be…could it?_

Straightening up, images of Rinna's still form at his feet. Her tear filled eyes gazing up at him as she begged him to believe her. His echoing, cruel laughter bouncing off the walls as he spat on her. Hating her for tricking him with those soft gray eyes and gentle kisses. Only later to learn she had told the truth. What a fool he had been. What a fool he was now for ever accepting the contract for the Grey Wardens.

"So, the great Zevran, conquered by a wizard? I am speechless I thought you would be done and back to Antiva in a day! What has taken so long?" Taliesin called from atop the ramparts of an old building. Out of the dark came his old friend, cackling with glee as he gazed down at him. Zevran froze as in front of him Howl came to the realization they were being ambushed. Confusion washing over his features when Taliesin uttered his lover's name, the person he trusted most in this world. Turning on his heel to run to him for protection, but pulling up short when he saw the look on his face. Yes, they had done this dance before. Many times.

"Taliesin, you are here? I beg of you to sweep me away from this sordid place! Had you arrived sooner we could have both visited this wonderful place called The Pearl together. I know a delightful whore there whose beauty is almost on par with mine." Zevran called back with a light air. He saw Howl stare at him in disbelief then glance back where armed men were waiting for an order to attack. He gulped visibly, taking another uncertain step towards the assassin.

"Ha, bed them first then draw the knife, eh? You've always been one for pleasure first work later, Zev! Now tell me why I have to drag your sorry ass back to Antiva. Rumors are going around saying you've gone rogue." Taliesin said dropping down from the ramparts. He landed gracefully on his feet like cat strolling towards his fellow Crow. Completely ignoring the elven mage who seemed to be coming to the slow realization he may just be in danger. Howl turned pleading eyes towards Zevran opening his mouth to ask what was happening. How did this man know him? Zevran refused to meet his gaze as he greeted Taliesin's triumphant smirk with one of his own.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I was going to continue, but the chapter was getting so long I decided to break it into two parts. I really need to get Howl out of the way so I can play with Fenris. Oh, the thrills I shall have!_


	18. Patience

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Why is it Fenris is just so damn sexy? Hardly seems fair all things considered. I find that I've loved this pairing so much I was actually considering doing another fic but the DA universe would be "modern". As in motorcycles, cars, laptop computers, etc. Only difference would be no nuclear weapons, guns, etc. Now don't tell me Fenris would not look hot in a black leather jacket roaring down the highway on a Harley.  
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It didn't take long for Zevran to think he was a fool. As a matter of fact, he may as well have thrown himself off the edge of the cliff for all the good it did him. Right now he was waiting in the front room upstairs listening to the arguing voices coming from within Hawke's quarters. He could hear the apostate raise his voice in response to what Anders at said. Varric joining in to back him up. He recognized Isabela's suave voice as she argued a point with Merrill pitching in at the end. Quite honestly, it was boring waiting for one's fate to be decided. To his right leaning against the wall was Fenris, arms crossed against his chest as he glowered at him. Zevran smiled at him only receiving a sneer in return before the other elf turned his head. Across the room talking quietly with each other were…what were their names? Aveline and Donnic?

"My friend, I take it your name is Donnic?" Zevran said, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the empty space. From the corner of his eye he saw Fenris's head snap around shooting him icy glares in warning but he plowed on never the less.

"Erm, yes. I don't believe we were introduced to each other." Donnic replied nervously glancing at his wife. Aveline was gazing at the former assassin with contempt as if she wished to crush him under her boot.

"You would not know me, I'm afraid. Only, I am curious. How goes your relationship with Bianca? She seems like quite a fine woman if a bit on the silent side." Zevran asked casually. He could already hear the disgusted snort from Fenris and had to resist giving the handsome elf a lecherous grin. Truly, Fenris brought out the worse in him.

"How do you know I was-" Donnic gasped his mouth dropping comically open. Now he had the attention of Aveline who was fixing him with a threatening glare. Her hand falling down to grasp the hilt of her sword.

"I can read minds. Did Fenris not tell you? Shame on you, by the way my friend. Thinking such things with your beloved wife so close." Zevran said shaking his finger at the guardsmen. Donnic's face turned even more pale then before as if he had seen a ghost. To his side Zevran saw Fenris detach himself from the wall and walk over to him. Aveline had raised her brow and was glancing at her husband as if she thought he were an idiot. He might as well be considering he believed such a farfetched detail.

"Ignore him, Donnic. Zevran can no more read minds than walk through walls." Fenris said glaring at the golden haired elf as he said this. Zevran smirked cracking his knuckles as he did so.

"Now, now, my darling Fenris, don't go giving the man false hopes! How do you know I cannot walk through walls unless I were to try, hm?" Zevran asked. Fenris lingered only two feet away from him but may as well have been on an island with the way he had separated himself from the situation. He scowled in reply as he noticed Aveline lecturing her poor husband. Why did he have the feeling for the next couple of weeks the man would not be joining them for Diamondback?

"How about we see if you can fly by me throwing you off the roof?" Fenris threatened. Zevran tilted his head to the side trying to inquire innocence.

"Throwing helpless elves off roofs? My dear Fenris, I don't have wings!" Zevran teased him. Fenris opened his mouth for a retort when the door to Hawke's quarters slammed open. A disgruntled Hawke stood there narrowing his eyes when they landed on Zevran. To one side stood Anders, Merrill, and Isabela. On the other were Hawke and Varric shooting twin death glares at the golden haired elf. Fenris shifted imperceptibly on the other foot seeing the way Hawke was glaring at the assassin.

"Hawke, if I may put my two coppers in?" Aveline suggested stepping forward. Her husband stood behind her looking like a reprimanded abbey boy. Hawke glanced at her still clearly annoyed but with a level of respect Zevran knew came from being the captain of a guard.

"Yes, Aveline?" Hawke asked his tone surprisingly polite. Zevran wrinkled his nose wishing they had given him at _least _a certain level of respect. Or his necklace back at the very least.

"In concerns to the _former_ Crow I suggest we keep him prisoner until further notice. From what you've told me he did, as a matter of fact, have _several_ chances to kill his benefactors without our knowing until we came across the bodies. While Zevran's morale code isn't perfect, what is Nuncio's compared to his if he's a true Crow?" Aveline asked. Zevran was sure the surprise showed on his face. He knew the two mages and pirate were in his corner. According to what he had heard though they would still follow Hawke even if he went against the majority rule. This wasn't a democracy, after all.

"Aveline…" Hawke said sounding exasperated. Zevran remained silent having to use a great force of will to remain standing. The room felt as if it were beginning to spin and he wanted to throw up. He focused on Hawke however and put on his most charming smile, taking a step forward to greet him.

"Ah, the Champion of Kirkwall. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, truly, if I weren't on the verge of being murdered. Though, if the matter does come to you ending my life shortly I have two requests." Zevran said. Fenris glanced sharply at him as did Hawke who seemed surprised he had even dared to address him. Anders, Merrill, and Isabela all leaned forward as if they wished to listen in despite being only a few feet away.

"Depends on what they are, murderer." Hawke shot back. Zevran raised an inquisitive brow but continued on despite the bile rising in the back of his throat. He had to focus, to remain awake.

"All I ask is that I have my necklace back and you cremate my body. The necklace is a token from my first target as a Crow. Cremation, well, I made a promise to a dear friend a long time ago." Zevran explained. He had to catch himself from going to lean against the stoic figure lingering behind him. He still did not know whether or not Fenris was on his side. One moment he seemed to be pushing forward, the next standing by observing the entire situation with disinterest.

"No." Hawke said bluntly. Zevran felt cold shock spreading through his entire being starting from his heart outward. He had a sudden vision of Howl gazing up at him eyes bright with curiosity, still lost in a world only he saw in one of books. Then a delighted smile as he recognized the face gazing down at him laughing as he set aside his work.

"Hawke." Fenris said his voice grounding Zevran in the present. He turned his head to glance at the lyrium elf as he stepped forward, forcing Zevran to take a step back. Fenris now stood squarely between the two glaring at Hawke straight in the eye. Honestly, Fenris was quite lanky for an elf. He wished he were that tall.

"Apostate." Fenris said, pointing at Hawke.

"Abomination." He pointed at Anders.

"….cheats at Dimaondback." His finger wavering a moment on Varric.

"Blood mage." Merrill, poor girl she looked shocked.

"Stole a Qunari relic." He glared at Isabela.

"Changes the guard for _all _us." Fenris said with a nod to Aveline.

"Tevinter fugitive." Fenris finished, pointing at himself.

"You're being a hypocrite, Hawke. The company you keep is hardly what anyone would call morally correct. As for being a murderer, how is what you've done any different from what Zevran has practiced? Other than it having an actual guild built around it?" Fenris asked his green eyes blazing. Hawke opened his mouth to argue but closed it instead. He had a thoughtful look on his face as he glanced between Fenris and Zevran. Hawke was unsure of what to make of the pair.

Ever since he had met Fenris his entire focus had been on revenge for Danarius. Glancing at the assassin he wondered what had brought on this sudden devotion. Loneliness, perhaps? Fenris may have even recognized his own blight in the other elf driving him to protect him so fiercely. Whatever the reason Hawke was secretly pleased to see a difference. He couldn't read Zevran all too well, but he seemed genuine when it came to what he said. With a sigh he shook his head glancing back at the blond elf.

"I think you're absolutely mad, but if you're so intent on it then fine. Zevran can stay for as long as _you_ want him too. Tomorrow I'll go take care of Nuncio. Anders, you know where the coin is. Just don't run me into debt." Hawke said. A silent signal must have been given because suddenly the others gave a sigh of relief, all except for Varric who still glared at him coldly. The dwarf did, however, take the necklace out from his inside pocket and drop it into Zevran's open palm.

"You're the luckiest bastard I've met since Hawke. Don't screw it up." Varric said as he shoved past Zevran. Zevran glanced at the dwarf's retreating back distantly reminded of Oghren. Oh, what he wouldn't give to see one of his old friends again. Two years of his life given away to a young mage, and his entire life had changed.

"Come, we should go." Fenris said curtly, a vice like grip on Zevran's arm as he led him out of the mansion. Zevran felt faint with relief his legs shaking underneath the cloak as let himself be led outside. It was late afternoon now, but revoltingly hot as Fenris made his way back to his own estate.

"Why did you do it?" Zevran asked suddenly. Fenris stopped, waiting for the crowd to clear enough so he could pass through the market square. He glanced down at Zevran who was peering at him with squinted eyes due to the bright light.

"I told you, you have answers to my questions. And what Hawke was about to do was wrong. I won't allow him to blacken his name for your sake." Fenris answered craning his head to see above the crowd. They were beginning to thin out, but not enough. With an annoyed sigh his hand unconsciously fell to Zevran's wrist, tugging him along behind him as he dove into the flow of bodies.

"I can understand your reasoning behind Hawke. What of yourself ? You blackened your own name by saving me." Zevran shot back trying to avoid being knocked loose from the hand locked around his wrist. He gave a tug to test it and was nearly yanked off his feet when Fenris pulled him closer. Suddenly spikes were digging into his chest, his eyes locking with those forest green ones. For a moment time stood still as the crowd flowed around them. It was if they were the only two people in the world.

"I wanted to get something to eat. I'm starving." Zevran said hurriedly stepping away. Fenris narrowed his eyes but looked where Zevran pointed. A small food stand selling pastries was there. With a sigh, he walked over there with the assassin in tow. His free hand pawing at the meager purse he kept on him as he searched for sufficient coin.

"You didn't answer my question." Zevran said when they came next to the stand. The woman glanced up her mouth falling open in shock at the handsome pair. But she hid her surprise well as she stammered out a price while Fenris ordered two. Zevran chose a random pastry that had dark swirls around the crust the center topped off with lavish cream. Fenris accepted his as well pulling Zevran into the shade so they could eat.

Fenris leaned up against a pillar mindlessly chomping on his pastry. Zevran nibbled at his trying to appear to be ravenous as he had claimed. He took a large bite when he noticed Fenris glancing back at him and nearly choked on the sweetness. He managed to swallow it with a large gulp but the treat tasted of sawdust in his mouth. Zevran coughed wondering why his mouth suddenly felt dry. Fenris was already on the last bite of his, crumbs at his feet as he finished his off.

"I thought you were starving." Fenris snapped, nodding to the almost uneaten pastry. Zevran shot him a glare annoyed at being lectured as if he were a child.

"I am, but it's hard to swallow with my mouth dry."

"Do you do nothing but complain?"

"Do you save random strangers who do not wish to be saved?" Zevran snarled venom dripping from each word. Fenris appeared a bit taken aback at the harsh reply. Zevran shot him a death glare for emphasis the pastry crumbling as he balled his hand in a fist. Chunks of pastry fell onto the ground scattering in all directions.

"If you wish to commit suicide on your own account, then do so. Do not blame me for saving you. If I remember correctly you came running to me when you were pursued by Varric and the Abomination." Fenris growled right back. He glanced down at the wasted food and turned his head to spit.

"Suicide is a sin in the eyes of the Maker. Besides, I would never deliberately walk into a situation where I lost my life without this." Zevran said, his hand going to the earring now safely located around his neck. Fenris glanced down at the small glint of gold, pushing away from the pillar as he nodded to the golden haired elf.

"You're sick and not in your right mind. I have cold water back at the mansion."

"Believe me, my friend, when I say there are worse fates than death in this world." Zevran said tiredly, trailing after him. Fenris felt a shiver go down his spine at the familiar words.

"I believe you. I know."

...

Fenris felt the fool who ever said "patience is a virtue" had not been in their right mind. They especially did not have the e_steemed_ honor of looking after a certain Antivan Crow. No, make that _former_ Crow.

A week had passed since Hawke had declared Zevran could stay. One week of Anders visiting twice a day, arms filled with fresh fruits and vegetables for his patient. Orana tagging along behind him bearing a potion or two to help the assassin to recover his lost blood. One week of being stuck up high in the mansion listening to Zevran talk about his past lovers. One week of being invited into his own bed every night. A week of one annoying, and what Fenris viewed as _unnaturally _flirtatious elf.

He had had enough of it. The following morning when he awoke again confined to the couch he had a mind to throw Zevran out on the street. Anders had forbid him from asking anything of Zevran beyond whether he needed anything to make him more comfortable. Despite the Abomination hating him for his view of mages, Anders couldn't help being obsessed with healing an individual. Having in such close proximity made his skin crawl and the urge to crush someone's skull in. So when Fenris went into the dining area with every intention to tell Zevran their deal was off, he was surprised to be greeted by a delicious smell.

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard as he smelled it again. Fenris heard the sizzling of something in a pan but couldn't detect what it was. When he wandered into the dining area he saw the fireplace was alight with Zevran crouched in front of it. Curious, he wandered over and peered over the other elf's shoulder. It took him a moment to realize Zevran was cooking an egg that appeared to have melted cheese mixed in which he stirred with a wooden spoon. Without looking his hand reached out and picked up a pinch of what looked to be dried leaves, sprinkling it over the egg. The smell strengthened, but in a pleasant kind of way.

"What are you cooking?" Fenris finally managed to ask after a moment. Zevran glanced up at him from his position, moving to stand up. Fenris moved out of the way as Zevran gingerly handled the pan, a rag wrapped around the handle to prevent him burning himself as he maneuvered the creation onto a plate.

"An omelet, my dear Fenris. Have you never seen one before? Here, help yourself. This one is yours." Zevran said, gingerly scooting the plate in Fenris's direction. A sparkling fork newly polished lay on the plate, inviting Fenris to devour the dish at once. He then noticed a small basket with a dozen eggs nestled in it. Zevran plucked out two, cracking them expertly over the pain as he tossed the shells into a bowl beside the dried leaves. A hunk of cheese poked out from its wrapping of cloth.

Fenris stared down at the omelet as if it were an alien creature. He picked up the fork and poked it, breaking the yolk causing the yellow liquid to spread out. Zevran appeared to be absorbed in his cooking oblivious to the dilemma behind him. Fenris dipped the fork into the yellow and lifted it to his mouth, licking it off carefully. It tasted good.

When Zevran turned back around, the second omelet finished he stared at the uneaten egg in surprise. A scowling Fenris glaring at the meal as if it were poisoned. Well, Zevran could understand his hesitation. But really?

"I did not poison it, my friend. I do not turn on my benefactors. Come, eat, it is good. Or do you not like eggs? I can prepare something else, if you like." Zevran suggested, pulling out a chair so he could eat his breakfast as well. Fenris glanced at him as he slowly sat as well, having remained standing the entire time. He still held the fork, but held it in a tight fist as if it would run away if he dared to set it down.

"No, I like eggs. I guess." Fenris replied, but he seemed confused at his own answer. Zevran glanced at him again, quirking a brow as he used his own fork to slice off a piece of egg. Lifting it to his mouth he ate it, closing his eyes in bliss at the warmth of the food. He must have let out a moan because Fenris was staring at him, clearly amused.

"Hmph, I've not had time to stop and have a well prepared meal in a long time. So forgive me for my enthusiasm. Is something wrong? Eat!" Zevran ordered, uncomfortable to have Fenris watching him so closely.

Fenris hesistated, glancing at the fork again. With great care he arranged it in his hand and did as Zevran had. However, when he lifted the implement to his mouth the piece of egg promptly slid of onto the floor. He glanced down at it, then let out a low growl, putting the fork down as he got up to leave.

"Forget it. I'll grab something from one of the stalls." Fenris snarled, letting his fork clatter onto the plate. They were fine Tevinter porcelain which Danarius had kept up stored in his cupboard. Zevran stared at him as he rose to leave, intending to put on his armor. Last night he had been so exhausted he'd dropped it off in a corner, going to bed in nothing but his trousers.

"Fenris." Zevran said, abandoning his half eaten breakfast and pursuing the other elf. Fenris ignored him, bending down to yank his breast plate from the pile. His gauntlets were on the shelf where he had placed them last night. When he went to retrieve them only one of them was there. Cursing, he grabbed it placing his breast plate on the couch. Where was the other one?

"Zevran, have you seen another one like this laying around?" Fenris asked grouchily, holding up his one gauntlet. Zevran glanced at it before nodding.

"Up on the mantle. Fenris, do you not know how to use silverware?" Zevran questioned him, following into another room. Fenris's shoulders tensed at the question but he continued to ignore his guest. Walking over to the mantle he spotted the runaway metal glove and took it down, idly sliding it onto his hand as he walked about looking for the rest of his armor.

"Fenris-" Zevran began again only to be cut off. Fenris had spun around and now loomed in front of him face contorted in rage as his pupils shrank to pinpricks in a sea of green. Zevran had to tilt his head back to meet his gaze but settled on the bridge of his nose to avoid the searing glare.

"I was never taught to use silverware in Tevinter. Why would a slave dine at the table of their master? Do you wish to taunt me more on the subject, or are we quite done here?" Fenris whispered his voice a low rumble in the tense air between them. Zevran's eyes flickered as if he wished to make a joke, but decided against his better judgment.

"I apologize, Fenris. I did not know." Zevran said any hint of flirtation or mocking gone. Fenris remained where he was glaring down at the other elf until understanding crept back into his mind. It was true. He had told nothing of his past to Zevran. Instead of admitting his wrong, Fenris snorted and disappeared into another room.

It took him a few minutes to get his armor on. Buckling and adjusting the straps so it would not slide off but was comfortable. When he came back out to retrieve his sword he saw Zevran slicing pieces of bread from a loaf on a cutting board. On the side on an empty plate were slices of fried meat. When he came closer the name for the thin meat came to him. Bacon.

"There is a kitchen downstairs you can make a mess in if you've a sudden desire to start cooking. Don't expect me to clean up after you here." Fenris said eyeing the strips of meat. Zevran glanced up at him and shook his head, putting the two slices he had made in the pan before sticking it back into the fire.

"Do not take me for a fool, Fenris. Your kitchen hasn't been used in years and I don't have the strength to spend all day cleaning it. I can very well clean up after myself if you haven't noticed the past couple of days. I did live in a house for a while at some point in my life. I'm familiar with mundane chores." Zevran answered as he poked the bread until he managed to get it under his spoon. As he deftly turned it over Fenris helped himself to one of the slices of bacon, taking a bite as he watched him cook. The meat tasted smoky and greasy, but delicious.

"Well…do you intend to eat that all for yourself?" Fenris asked glancing at the bacon. He remembered serving such things to Danarius in the mornings. Setting out a near feast while he had to wait for a bowl of gruel or scraps from the table to be given to him if he were lucky. To have another person cook for him even willingly felt odd.

"Yes, no bacon for you." Zevran crowed with a wicked grin. Fenris scowled about to argue it was _his_ mansion as the blond man slid the two pieces of toast back onto the plate. He spread a white sauce from a jar on it in even strokes with the same knife. Deposited his omelet from earlier on it along with generous amount of bacon. This done Zevran put the other slice atop his creation with a flourish, cut it in half sideways, and handed the entire plate to Fenris. Fenris took it puzzled as he glanced down at it.

"It's a sandwich my dear Fenris. You can eat it with your hands." Zevran said nodding to it. Fenris furrowed his brow and glanced down at the food as if he expected it to jump up and attack him. With a sigh Zevran took half off the plate and bit into it. Zevran closed his eyes in bliss at the taste of the food. Fenris put the plate down on the table, hesitantly picking up the other half and taking a small bite.

To his surprise it tasted delicious. He couldn't name the ingredients in the sandwich, but the delightful crunch of fried bacon combined with the softness of the bread made for a pleasant taste on his tongue. Before he knew it he had devoured the entire thing. Noticing this, Zevran laughed and gave his half to Fenris. Fenris almost growled out an insult then held his breath. It was meant as a kind gesture, not a degenerating one. He accepted it with a small thank you and ate it just as fast.

"Where did you learn how to cook?" Fenris asked after he was done. Zevran still had a pile of bacon leftover which he helped himself too as he watched the former assassin clean up. Zevran pursed his lips in thought as he cleared the table piling the dishes one atop each other. The omelets he threw out the window into the courtyard for any stray dogs to eat.

"As I said, I was settled in a house for a while. On the road I didn't always have the luxury of meals being prepared for me on a whim. So I learned how to make simple dishes to hold myself over. A few a bit more complex than others, but nothing elaborate." Zevran answered deep in thought. Fenris reached out to still his hand before he could pick up the dishes. Carefully, Fenris picked up the dirty dishes as Zevran watched him curiously.

"I'll…take these downstairs. Don't worry I'll heat up some water later so you can wash these." Fenris said awkwardly to Zevran. The blond haired elf watched him with either suspicion or amusement, he could not tell.

…

"You seem fond of him."

This came unexpectedly from Isabela. Fenris glanced at her his attention returning to the problem at hand. She had claimed there been trouble on the docks with seamen she had dumped overboard when she had left the first time. Fenris snorted, tossing back a white lock that had insisted on getting in his eye. It stubbornly fell back blocking his vision. This time he reached up and brushed it back wondering idly if he should cut his hair short again.

"You said you needed help. So, where are they?" Fenris asked tiredly glancing at a few men lingering nearby. Her crew currently seemed content to be moored here. They usually frequented the Hanged Man or wandered into Darktown seeking female companionship. Isabela stepped closer to him pushing her breasts out in an enticing way.

"Oh, I need help. Maybe just not the kind I mentioned beforehand." Isabela teased stepping closer to him. Fenris spun shooting a glare at her as he stepped away from her. Isabela pouted, crossing her arms over her voluptuous chest as she looked him up and down.

"Don't tell me you've-"

"No. Zevran is too…" Fenris said waving his hand. Isabela smiled at him when he said that. Throwing back her head and laughing to his annoyance.

"You know, sometimes I think I know you then I don't. Zevran is far to sly, charming, and beautiful for anyone to master. I always thought it was a shame he had settled for a weak mage. At first I assumed it was a joke until I saw the way he followed him around like a lost puppy. Trust me, Fenris, whatever you do, don't fall in love." Isabela advised him. With a wave of her bejeweled hand she pretended as if she were a great lady and he merely her manservant. Considering him dismissed she turned around to start shouting orders at several of her men who should have been minding the ship.

Fenris narrowed his eyes, wondering what she had meant by that. A weak mage?


	19. Taliesin

**DA ORIGINS**

"Zevran?" Howl whispered nervously, his eyes flicking to the tall figure approaching him. Zevran tilted his head up to his lip pouting as Taliesin came up to him. His friend seemed well and the laughter in his eyes were both familiar and strange. Familiar since he could so clearly remember joking with him in Antiva. Strange for the very face he had grown so used to Howl's eyes. Bright orbs as he eagerly asked a question or the delighted surprise of discovering something new.

"I know why you did it, Zev. When we get back we'll make up a story. Tell them….what the hell? Tell them the mage charmed you into following him." Taliesin said that same smirk still on his face. Howl still stood there looking stunned and hurt. He hadn't even had the sense to draw his staff, little good it would do him with his abilities.

_Remain still, my little Owl. Please, remain quiet and do not question me now. I won't let you die like Rinna._

"Ah, I do believe that would be quite hard for them to believe. This Grey Warden, he is no Warden! He casts snowflakes and candle flames as attacks, nothing more. I only let him live for his eyes. He has pretty eyes, yes?" Zevran asked smirking in response. He motioned to Howl who gulped visibly his face turning pale. His sky blue eyes were wide with panic as Taliesin turned to inspect him squinting in the afternoon light. He chuckled, shaking his head at the whims of his fellow Crow.

"That he does, I agree. You plan to take him back to Antiva? Or do wish to pluck his eyes out and wear them as a necklace? I've never seen any with quite those color eyes before. What are your plans for him?" Taliesin asked, putting his hand on his chin as he thought out the conundrum. Howl's face went even paler and he glanced at Zevran silently begging him for help. Zevran met the gaze with a cold one as if he were staring at a target. Howl licked his lips his eyes flicking to the pair.

"Back off, the both of you." Howl said his voice drawing their attention. Taliesin seemed surprised their target had spoken. Zevran was as well though he didn't let it show on his face. Only bored indifference as if he were listening to a cat meowing.

"I may be only able to cast 'snowflakes' as you so casually put it, but I can command lightning as well. Have you ever smelled burning flesh? Lightning burns you from the inside out, slowly. The reek of it is coppery and sweet, like freshly spilled blood. Your skin blackens and begins to flake, your eyeballs pop fluid sizzling as it runs down your cheeks…" Howl threatened in a low voice. By this time he had drawn his staff, holding it out in front of him one handed. Zevran noticed sparks of lightning arching between the tines of the staff. He also knew Howl had no command of such magic. The description alone he had memorized from one of his many books.

"Charming. I always did wonder why you read so much. Now I know it is to scare little boys and girls from stealing from you." Zevran said strolling over to the mage. Taliesin had looked uneasy since Howl was a good actor. His baby blue eyes had darkened to those of storm clouds on the horizon. Seeing his bluff called out, Howl's hands began to shake but he gripped his staff harder until his knuckles turned white.

"Zev, I'm warning you-" Howl began but was cut off. Zevran reached out, fearless as gripped the bottom half of the staff. Howl could still give him a bad shock if he concentrated hard enough. With a twist he ripped the oak branch from Howl's grasp, sending it clattering against the stones several feet away.

Howl stared at him in horror his eyes widening even more when he saw his lover draw his Crow dagger. Zevran began to walk forward and Howl stumbled backing away from him. His back hitting a wooden support beam trapping him. He could see how terrified the mage was, his breath coming in short pants. For a second he was so strongly reminded of Rinna he wanted to drop the dagger and embrace Howl. He couldn't. They were outnumbered, even with his skills they could die here. Alistair and Wynne had not followed them and were probably already back at the Keep figuring Howl had dragged him away to visit Palen.

A harsh laugh left his throat his mouth tasting bitter as he closed the distance between them. Flicking his blade forward he caught Howl's spectacles with the tip of his blade. By raising his blade on an inch the glasses fell to the stones, the lenses cracking. Before Howl could think of retrieving them Zevran stepped on them with a _crunch_, twisting his boot to ground them down even further.

Howl reached up, grasping his wrist. Zevran at first thought his mage meant to beg him to spare his life until he smelled burning skin. A second later he let out a shout, yanking his wrist out of the mage's grasp. With his spare hand balled it up into a fist and punching Howl in the stomach. In one swift motion stabbing his dagger by Howl's head with a solid _thunk_. Howl was gripping his midsection with one hand his eyes staring in horror at the blade that had come close to cutting off his ear.

"Now…" Zevran leaned forward, his warm breath falling across Howl's face. He remembered kissing those trembling lips last night. How soft they had felt on his skin like satin.

"As I see it you have two options. One, be quiet as I decide what to do with you and live. The second, you die after Taliesin and his men have their way with you before I slit your throat. You're an inexperienced lover by far, but you're still a warm body never the less." Zevran threatened his tone calm and charming as usual. By the terrified expression on the mage's face he knew how he must look. Dagger poised near the slim throat, eyes hard and unyielding any emotion.

"I'll be quiet." Howl said his voice shaking as he said it. No tears were present but he could see the way his lover's eyes grew shinier with unshed ones. He steeled himself against the desperate way Howl was looking at him.

Zevran had hated himself for days after dislocating Howl's wrist. Even though Howl had assured him all was forgiven, even as the bruises faded he still felt a stab of pain every time he thought of the incident. Acting as he was now he wanted turn his dagger on himself and put it through his heart. Still, this was the only way he could see for them to both come out of this alive.

"Hey Zev, the contract still says he needs to die. Though, about option two…" Taliesin teased. Zevran turned around with a similar smirk on his face as he shrugged his shoulders.

"My dear Taliesin, he truly isn't all that talented. Locked away in a tower for some ten odd years his only companions being imaginary friends found in books. Quite honestly I only did it to get into the good graces of the group. He has charms though in telling his little stories. Cute, really." Zevran replied. Taliesin's smirk grew even wider in amusement. His former partner made to reply but stopped, his mouth hanging open as he froze in place. The next instant his eyes locked on something behind him as his hands flew to draw his daggers.

Zevran spun on his heel, drawing his spare dagger to attack whomever their intruder was. He prayed it wasn't his companions come back to check on them. What he saw made him realize why Taliesin had frozen in place the way he did.

Howl was bent double as if he were about to vomit. Spikes had burst through his robes as his body expanded forcing him onto all fours. Howl raised his head his gaze meeting Zevran's as he face seemed to melt. Reforming into a muzzle that lengthened as his robes faded replaced by patches of dark fur. The stench of rotting flesh hit Zevran making him dizzy. Behind him he could hear Taliesin shouting orders to his men as before him the…what the hell was it? _Monster_ raised its head and let out a roar.

Howl's roar echoed in the alleyway carrying beyond the small enclosure. With a snarl a paw came out, swatting Zevran to the side like a ragdoll. Zevran landed in a trash heap which softened his landing and probably saved him from cracking his skull open on the wall. Howl let out another roar, charging straight for the nearest assailant. Some man foolish enough to draw his sword and charged towards him. Howl didn't even appear to flinch from the head on attack in his new form, easily bowling the man over with his weight before biting his head off.

Zevran watched from his spot, stunned as one by one Howl slaughtered their attackers. At some point it occurred to the assassin what Howl had become. A bear poisoned by the Blight. He had seen such a creature only once and it had been dead. Having died near a riverbank where no scavengers dared to approach it.

Howl turned in circles, his jaws and claws putting an end to any who came to close. Soon only Taliesin was left facing him alone. Zevran could see the grim set of his jaw as he eyed the creature. Panicked, Zevran forced himself to rise. Ignoring the agony in his leg as he lurched forward one of his daggers still gripped in his hand as he sprinted towards them.

"Howl, no! Don't kill Taliesin!" Zevran shrieked, desperate to save them both. He could not hate Taliesin for coming to save him, nor Howl for attempting to protect him despite his fake betrayal. Howl raised his paw for the killing blow just as the assassin reached him.

Zevran bolted over Howl's back, barely missing the spikes as he slammed the pommel of his blade over the creature's head. Beneath him the bear howled in pain as it shook its head back an forth trying to dislodge him. Zevran fell off landing on his shoulder. He felt a hand lock around his upper arm, dragging him away from the mage. Scared Howl was meant to be killed he threw himself forward back at the beast.

"Dammit, Zev! Stand up, I can't bloody well carry you!" Taliesin shouted into his ear. Zevran stopped turning to his head to look up at his fellow Crow. Taliesin scowled at him his eyes widening in slow realization when Zevran stood up, shoving his hand away.

"He really has charmed you, hasn't he?" Taliesin asked despite the situation. Zevran glanced back at Howl who was roaring in pain, swiping at his face. Blood had run into his eyes and he appeared to be trying to get his bearings by scent.

"I am sorry, Taliesin. But…I owe him my life. And more." Zevran answered. He felt pressure ease as he admitted it. He glanced at his friend who glared at him with a mixture of disbelief, disgust, and regret.

Taliesin made to say or do something. Zevran wasn't sure if it was to express his disappointment in him or a promise to spare him on the matter. The next thing he knew he had been knocked flat on his face, a roar ringing in his ears. He raised his head in time to see Howl head-butt Taliesin, sending him flying several feet away from them. For a moment the great bulk of Howl's transformed body loomed over him. Four pillar like legs standing solidly around him. A serene moment passed where Zevran wondered if this was what it felt like to feel safe. In the next instant in a billow of robes, Howl knelt in front of him. Raising his hands that were glowing with his mage gift.

Howl screamed spells one after the other when Taliesin rose to attack. None missed, slowing him down as he tried to come towards him. One hit him square in the chest, causing his eyes to widen before he fell back. Howl let his hands fall to his sides, his entire form slumping. Around them were the men dead. In his attack Howl had ripped arms, legs, and heads off bodies. Cast off limbs lay scattered about as Howl turned his head to gaze at the assassin.

Zevran stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say. He had never seen the mage do anything like that before. He knew it was strong magic, forbidden magic. Not like blood magic, but definitely something the Templars would not approve of.

Howl opened his mouth as if to say something. His eyes fluttering closed as he leaned forward. His leaning turning into a fall, with Zevran managing to catch him before his head could hit the stones. Howl's body was completely limp in his arms his breathing deepened.

"Slaughter a gang of men, save me, and defeat Taliesin only to fall asleep. I can't find anything funny with that." Zevran said feeling exhaustion rushing up to meet him. With a bit of a relief he laid down on the stones, holding the mage close to his chest protectively. His hand still locked around the dagger.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I found it a waste when they made you kill off Taliesin! I mean, Zevran's explanation was vague but clearly him and Taliesin were more than friends. Maybe they'll put him in DA 3? Say he faked his death or something, I bet. Kind of miss the Antivan Crows to be honest. Be nice to play with one again. XD_


	20. Dishes

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **  
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Fenris watched Zevran washing the dishes, wondering if he should bring up the subject of the weak mage. He had returned from the docks a few hours earlier and as promised had heated up water for the assassin to clean. In the end, Zevran had said he might as well clean the rest of the plates while he was at it. Fenris ended up helping by drying the dishes handed to him and putting them in a neat stack on the counter. They had both had to wipe down the counters to be sure their clean dishes and silverware wouldn't be dirtied all over again. Then they had to clean the rags, but thankfully Fenris had retrieved a clean cloth from one of the baskets. He would pay Hawke back later for it.

"How is it you manage to wait here patiently each day for me to return? You don't have to stay in the mansion, you can go outside." Fenris said as he idly dried the next dish handed to him. Zevran had rolled up his sleeves and was up to his elbows in warm sudsy water. Zevran furrowed his brow in thought as he scrubbed at another porcelain dish that looked as if it had seen better days.

"Did I not tell you? I dance while you are away. I dash from room to room choreographing dance moves for the day I will be called upon by the Maker to perform on a real stage." Zevran answered wistfully. Fenris snorted in response causing the blond haired elf to laugh. Fenris smirked, placing his new dried plate in the growing stack. Dear Maker, how many had Danarius left behind? Surely one magister didn't need _twelve _plates to dine from?

"Cute but I dance and you know it. What is it you really do?" Fenris pressed. Zevran sighed as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. He drew his hands out of the water wiping suds from his arms as he thought.

"I read, mostly. I walk around the mansion from time to time to explore the rooms to see if I can find where you hid my possessions. It's become a game, really. Just yesterday I found an excellent bookmark in the form of a peacock feather." Zevran answered with a shrug. Fenris glanced at him surprised trying to hide his smirk. Zevran caught it, however, and nudged him with his shoulder.

"Why are you smiling so mischievously, my friend? You hid my things in an obvious place, didn't you?"

"I did not hide them in the mansion, as I told you before. But yes, it is in an obvious place." Fenris said with a hint of glee. Zevran sighed shaking his head mournfully as he unplugged the sink watching the water drain out. He took a rag and began to dry his hands as he gave the lyrium elf a mock glare.

"You torment me so, my darling Fenris. I do not have any reason to wander about outside, lest it be in the courtyard. It would be foolish of me, no, to be seen by the public eye? Especially if I walk out the front door of your mansion. Your neighbors may begin to gossip." Zevran suggested. Fenris snorted at the thought. He didn't leave far from the Blooming Rose as it was and he knew the nobles in Hightown had already began to talk about him and Hawke.

"At least your pretty. Let it never be said I do not have good taste." Fenris snapped. Zevran's eyes widened as he put his hand over his heart as if in shock.

"Why, Fenris? I had no idea you felt the same way! I do not know what to say, we have only known each other for so short a time…" Zevran exclaimed dramatically. Fenris let out a low growl in reply but there was no heat behind it.

"You are _insufferable._ No wonder the Crows want you dead. You must have said something to annoy one of them." Fenris snapped as the assassin began to laugh at him.

"I have often been called that during my time with the Crows. Mostly due to my boasting as both an assassin and as a lover. Though, after a non-believer were to sleep with me they would often take it back." Zevran said wickedly leaning forward. Fenris narrowed his eyes stepping back from the other elf. Zevran laughed at him and he massaged his temples, sighing.

Fenris found he was reluctant to mention the mage. For the past couple of days Zevran and him had had an uneasy alliance between each other. This was the first time they had a normal…banter between each other ever since he had saved him. Despite his view of the assassin, he secretly found it a delight to return home each day to Zevran. He hadn't realized how silent the mansion was with just him in it. His guest always seemed to have a witty remark at the ready that either made him question his sanity or an uncertain smile spread across his face. Perhaps having company wasn't so bad.

A knock echoed from the main hallway to the kitchen. Zevran was tugging down his sleeves glanced up in surprise in the direction of the noise. Fenris sighed brushing past the blond into the entrance way. He walked over and pushed open the heavy door to see Anders standing there. The healer soured his mood but he remained silent. Fenris waved the mage in as he turned around and disappeared back inside. Zevran was just coming out of the kitchen and greeted the healer.

"Anders, a pleasure to see you as always. What horrid substances will you force down my throat today?" Zevran teased. Anders scowled as he headed upstairs with his patient close behind him. Fenris wondered if Hawke would be angry if Anders "accidentally" fell the down the stairs.

"It's medicine, and it's good for you. Have you been feeling well? You said you felt tired yesterday and almost slept all day. I know it's hard to move around, but you have to make sure you get daily exercise. Have you been drinking lots of water like I said?" Anders questioned as he reached the main dining area. He placed his basket on the table retrieving the empty one Zevran had left out to be returned. Zevran crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, nodding his head in answer to the healer's questions.

"I have been doing as you said. I still feel tired, but other than that I feel fine. I do feel weaker than I normally would. When I form a fist, my grip isn't as it should be. See?" Zevran said reaching out to grasp Anders's hand. The assassin squeezed with his all his might but the strength he normally would have was absent. Anders nodded, turning Zevran's hand over to take his pulse. Fenris felt a bit odd seeing the healer grasp the assassin's hand like that. He wanted to swat it away and draw Zevran close to him. The thought made him hold his breath in surprise. Where had that come from?

"Well, I'm afraid you won't be up to full strength for another few weeks. It might even be a couple of months since you lost so much blood. You're lucky to even be moving around as it is. I have a potion here that can help, though. Take one spoonful before you go to sleep each night." Anders said, beginning to describe the various medicines and their uses. He had written down instructions on a piece of parchment just in case so Zevran would remember. Fenris watched with a growing sense of uneasiness and anger. Finally, he went over and picked up the basket of medicines and placed it up on the mantle for easy access. Anders shot him a glare because he had been in the process of showing Zevran each one.

"I assure you I won't allow him to drop dead at my feet, Anders. Why don't you return to Hawke? I'm sure you have other tasks to attend to than seeing to than Zevran's well-being." Fenris said his tone harsh. Anders glared at him rising from the table as he waved his hand to his patient.

"Someone has to! You're hardly qualified to speak as it is living in this filthy place. Zevran should be in clean quarters at all times, not living in a trash heap." Anders snapped. Fenris's eyes darkened as he turned to the mage his expression hardening into a snarl.

"You're hardly one to speak, mage. At least I don't squat in Darktown dealing with the Templars at every turn. You bring Hawke more problems than he needs when you moved in with him. We can't all have the easy life handed to us on a silver platter." Fenris snarled right back. Anders's face turned bright red as he surged to his feet sparks flying from his eyes. Zevran stepped in sliding his arm around Fenris's shoulders to prevent bloodshed as much as to keep Anders from flinging fireballs at the elf.

"I assure you, Anders, Fenris is quite the host. Every time he comes back he keeps me company and cleans what he can. He is a strong warrior, yes? He has other responsibilities other than cleaning a house. He is not a servant, after all." Zevran teased them though he kept his tone gentle. Anders paused glancing at his patient guiltily then his gaze moving to Fenris's scowling face. His neck turned red as he coughed, motioning towards the basket.

"Well, the time when you're supposed to take your medicine is written down. I'll…I'll see you later, then." Anders said hurriedly as he moved towards the stairs. He flitted down them and within seconds both elves heard the slam of the door. Zevran pulled away from Fenris feeling oddly as he had crossed some boundary between them. Fenris appeared to be unfazed by the contact as he peered into the cupboard where they kept the food.

"Where's the rest of the bacon? You cooked a pile high as Sundermount this morning." Fenris said as he pushed aside jars of jam and a loaf of bread. Zevran glanced at his host chuckling as he answered.

"It's gone." Zevran said simply. Fenris huffed in annoyance turning to the other elf.

"I'm serious, Zevran. Where did it go?" Fenris snapped. Zevran came up to him tilting his head up which showed off his creamy throat. Fenris wondered why he had the sudden urge to bite that delicate throat.

"You ate it all this morning, my dear Fenris. I was actually quite mad with you earlier. I had planned on having some for lunch myself, but so is the fate of a prisoner. Always given the scraps to eat." Zevran said wistfully. Fenris snorted as he gently pushed Zevran out of his way to retrieve his gauntlets.

"You have a remarkably easy life for a prisoner. You're spoiled, lazing about all day while I have to deal with the scum of the city. I should be the prisoner here."

"We could always marry and I be your housewife. I have already cleaned, cooked, and polished armor foryou. And each night you return home you ravish me until my voice is hoarse from screaming your name." Zevran answered his voice slightly breathless. Fenris wasn't sure whether to kiss him or threaten to burn him at the stake.

"You do that of your own will. You're certainly welcomed to wreck the place, but I'm not taking care of the mess." Fenris replied. Zevran chuckled in response as he moved into the bedroom. Fenris felt suddenly awkward as the thought of inviting Zevran into his bed occurred to him. The other elf had certainly made passes at him and touched on the subject more than once. He had asked Hawke, in private of course, how two men were able to engage in such the activity. Hawke's answer had left him embarrassed and disturbingly intrigued at the same time.

"Zevran…" Fenris said, trailing after him into the bedroom. Zevran had begun to scan the shelves for a new book to read. He was in the process of taking one from the shelf when he heard his name called. He turned his hazel eyes squinted in the pale light.

"You called, my darling Fenris?" Zevran inquired pulling the book off the shelf. Fenris tensed his shoulder wondering how he should approach the subject. When he opened his mouth to reply what came out was entirely unexpected.

"I'm going to the Hanged Man later tonight to play Wicked Grace with the others. Would you care to join me?" Fenris asked. Dear Maker, it sounded as if he were asking him on a…a date? What that what human's called it? Zevran stared at him in surprise his eyes widening cutely. Cute? Fenris knew he was going insane if he thought the assassin was cute. He was anything _but_ cute.

"I appreciate the offer, my friend. I do not gamble, however. Thank you for thinking of me however. It is nice to know at least one other person desires my company here in Kirkwall." Zevran said to him and the way he said it made it as if he were sincerely thankful for the thought. Perhaps he was, Fenris knew Zevran did not talk about himself but he certainly had not lied to him yet.

"I insist you're here all day. I know you don't like Hawke, but he isn't a bad person. Varric is not as unpleasant as he first appears he is only worried for Merrill. She and him are very close." Fenris said holding his tongue when it came to the blood mage. He truly did not like her since she seemed to always have her head in the clouds. Merrill, though, had seemed to like Zevran right off. Often asking him how the assassin was doing when they met.

Zevran sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a comb from the nightstand. He began to brush his hair out to prepare it for braiding. He had let it loose in waves since he had to wash out the dried blood. His fingers began to deftly go through the familiar weaving of a lock of hair as he thought.

"As I said, I do not gamble. I know how to play Wicked Grace but I choose not to. Neither do I drink unless it is wine. Even then I drink little, as you have doubt noticed. Besides, isn't the Hanged Man clear across Kirkwall? I cannot walk that far without feeling sick afterward." Zevran replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He tied off the braid with a flourish and started on another one on the other side of his head this time. Fenris picked up the comb without thinking, brushing the back of Zevran's hair. The assassin hadn't brushed it thoroughly enough and from where he stood he could see the tangles. Zevran paused in his braiding, then slowly started up again though his voice was strained as he talked.

"You don't have to play or drink. Merrill usually sits beside Isabela or Varric to watch us play. Anders as well, though I've known him to lose most of his bets. They really aren't as unpleasant as you think, I promise. If Hawke or the others start making a fuss we'll leave." Fenris pressed as he ran the comb through the golden locks. He had never noticed how soft Zevran's hair was. A distant memory came to him out of the fog of his mind. Sitting behind a girl, his sister? Brushing her hair out as she sang a song about birds playing with frogs. The memory brought with it a sense of familiar warmth he was so unused to he almost dropped the comb.

"And getting to Lowtown?"

"If you're going to whine about it so much, then I'll carry you. You're going to the Hanged Man whether you like it or not. It's not healthy for you stay here alone all day." Fenris said his voice resolute. He began to make the final braid for Zevran who held still as he did so. But he heard a hollow laugh from the assassin.

"I see I have no choice in the matter, then. Very well, allow me to fetch my boots and a cloak before we go at least." Zevran replied as he felt the slight tug of his first two braids being pulled back to be tied to the third one. Once that was done Fenris handed him the comb as he rose from the bed already in the process of fetching his armor and gauntlets.

"I owe Varric five sovereigns, come to think of it. Where are those damn coins?" Fenris muttered to himself as he left the room.

Zevran watched his retreating back an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had felt so alien to have someone help him with his braids. Often whomever witnessed this ritual only attended to him as a means of getting into his bed. Fenris had simply picked up the comb as if this were normal for them. It was a pleasant sensation to have his hair combed and braided by someone else. It also worried Zevran.

He didn't want to fall in love again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _You know, I look at the way Zevran acts in this story and at the way he acts in Origins. I mean the actual game, not the fic. I believe since I have made changes to the way Zevran interacted with Howl is realistic in a sense. Because he has fallen in love **TWICE** now and a third time may just break him. The reason I changed so much with Howl though is because I figured people wouldn't want to read the same conversations they heard probably two or three times in the game when playing through it. As for Fenris's character I've watched videos of how he's acted as well. He tends to surprise people by being goofy at certain times, and he actually does act quite cute. I can imagine him easily (as Leto of course) brushing his sister's hair. Thus his instinct to brush Zevran's hair. _


	21. Healing

**DA ORIGINS**

They had been found by the city guard and carried back to the Earl's estate. When Howl had awakened he had refrained from saying anything to his companions. Only stating he and Zevran had been ambushed before completely shutting down no matter how many questions were asked of him. Zevran could feel the suspicious stares start up again among the others. Also a sense of urgency among them since Howl appeared to be deeply disturbed and unwilling to talk. He said nothing as well, only elaborating on the attack itself but not Howl's transformation into a Blight Bear.

Howl did not talk to him. He did not look at him. He took his dinner in his room or not at all. Even at one point the Earl became dissatisfied with the Grey Warden and called him to his study to have a talk with him. Instead, upon receiving the news Howl had thanked the messenger and got up. Walking right out the front door of the estate only to return to the estate late in the afternoon the next day.

The Earl had been furious, but nothing he said seemed to strike a point with Howl. Even after three days Alistair began to tire of his fellow Warden's disdain towards the rest of them. When he tried talking to him mage and former Templar got into an argument over the matter. Everyone in the Keep could hear them clearly on the other side. Only when Howl announced he was visiting The Pearl, yet again, Alistair lost his temper.

"You know, why don't you just bring your whore here? At least we'd get to see you less than an hour everyday if she were here!" Alistair shouted at the small mage. Howl glared at him, still having a hard time seeing ever since Zevran had broken his glasses. They were in the dining hall, and Zevran had come in to try and talk to the other Warden. This news did not bode well with him, not at all.

"I'm not going there to have _sex_ you imbecile! I'm friends with one of the whores there, nothing more! If you think I'm up to something, why not come with me? Maybe you'll find someone there willing to sleep with you even if you don't know how it bloody goes." Howl snarled with surprising venom. Zevran stared surprised Howl would take such a route. Alistair looked taken aback as well but the usually cheerful warrior's face had transformed into a mask of rage as he loomed over the mage, grabbing a fistful of his robes as he dragged him forward.

"Say that again, I dare you." Alistair hissed spittle flying from his lips. Sparks coming from his eyes as he lifted the mage close to his face. Zevran could see Howl struggling to stay on his toes beneath his robes to keep from being strangled.

Howl's expression darkened as he reached up. He wrapped his fingers around his friend's wrist. Zevran heard a sizzle as Howl channeled fire into the palm of his hand. Alistair shouted dropping Howl as he gripped his wrist. A cruel smirk had spread across the mage's face and Zevran felt a cold shiver go down his spine. He had never seen his mage do that before.

"Don't touch me, Alistair. I'm going to The Pearl, so either you can come with me or stay here and lick your wounds." Howl said his tone saying it was an order not a request. Alistair looked shocked as Howl turned around, whistling for his every trusting mabari Shigure. The loyal dog bounded up delighted as always to be of use to his master. Howl patted him on the head, grabbing his oak staff on the way out as he left.

When Zevran entered to check on the Templar he spotted Wynne in the opposite doorway, her face pale. She looked sick as she came close to Alistair. With shaking hands she took his burnt wrist and muttered a spell. Immediately the skin began to heal to a healthy pink glow. In a matter of minutes there was no sign Alistair had been burned.

"Are you quite alright, my friend?" Zevran asked quietly. Alistair still looked pissed but nodded, thanking Wynne as he rubbed his wrist.

"I'm fine, but what the hell is wrong with Howl? He never, _ever_ raises his voice. Except that one time he and Morrigan got into that argument. Even then after you talked to him he brought her bouquets of flowers for a week." Alistair said with a sigh. Zevran remembered, because Howl had also presented him with such small gifts as well to show he wasn't ignoring him. While living with the Dalish Howl had picked up the habit of helping him braid his hair. He also had a habit of tying feathers to the back of his braid so they tickled the back of his neck. The first time this had happened Zevran had been swiping at the back of his neck for three hours thinking it was bugs. Only Howl's giggling the entire time had made him think to undo the entire braid and come away with a small bunch of feathers tied together with a leather thong decorated with bright beads.

"I'm worried he may have been practicing…dark magic. Zevran, did anything happen between you and Howl? I can tell he is disturbed but he won't speak of it." Wynne asked him looking concerned. Alistair had turned to glance questioningly as well. Unsure of what to say, Zevran coughed. Trying to think of a reply.

"He wouldn't know anything. Even if he did, he would not speak of it." Said a deep voice from behind the enchantress and Templar. All three jumped in surprise as Sten came into the dining hall. Howl had even refrained from talking to the Qunari whom he was closest too in the whole group other than Zevran.

"Why wouldn't Zevran know? Howl…" Alistair began, but trailed off. He suddenly looked embarrassed as he glanced at the assassin. Alistair had grown to respect, if not like, Zevran. Zevran raised a brow and smirked causing the warrior to blush deeply. He knew exactly what him and Howl got up to after dark. Alistair had often complained of how loud they were in the middle of the night. Zevran had cracked up laughing when Howl had coyly asked his friend if he wished to join them.

Sten shook his head, glancing at the elf in question. Zevran had an uncomfortable feeling the Qunari knew exactly what had transpired between them. Instead Sten focused on Wynne and Alistair as he talked.

"Howl is scared. So, he shows his fangs to hide it." Sten said simply. Alistair and Wynne glanced at each other in question. Zevran met the Qunari's gaze for a moment and let out a small sigh.

"I will go talk to our Warden. Perhaps this time he will tell me what it is that is bothering him." Zevran stated, quickly leaving the room before any of them could ask him more questions.

Zevran didn't have to go far to look for Howl. To his surprise he found the mage rather quickly. Howl had walked into a small glass blower's shop. He could see him through the store window holding up glasses to his face and squinting as he peered through them. Putting down one pair before picking up another to see if it improved his sight.

Zevran walked in through the open door, glancing at the rows of glasses. Howl let out a frustrated sigh, putting down what appeared to be his tenth pair. Zevran spotted a pair set in thin gold gilt frames, their lenses more oval shaped than the round ones Howl had been used to. The lenses were also similar but they seemed to be the same thickness as the other ones. He picked them up and put them in Howl's hand. The mage didn't even glance at him as he slid the glasses on.

"Thank the Maker, I can see again!" Howl exclaimed with relief. For a moment he sounded like his old self. When the mage turned to thank whoever had handed him the glasses his smile faded from his face. Howl stared at him with a mixture of anger and horror.

"Oh, it's you." Howl said his voice hollow. Zevran met his gaze with his own suddenly unsure of what to say. All the openings he had practiced in his head going up in smoke as those cobalt irises focused on him.

"Let me pay for those." Zevran said instead, stepping around Howl careful not to touch him. Outside Shigure was sitting in the shade panting idly as he waited for his master. Howl looked down and nodded, leaving the shop as Zevran pulled out coin to pay for the glasses. The mage had begun to distribute coin among his companions evenly ever since they had left the Dalish camp so everyone could get what they needed.

By the time he came out Howl was already headed back into the alleys. Zevran cursed going after the mage. When he reached him he grabbed Howl's shoulder and spun him around. The mage responded by smacking his hand away. The blow was so light Zevran was tempted to throw Howl over his shoulder and take him back to the Keep that way.

"Thank you for paying, but I'm alright now. I can actually see again since you broke my last pair." Howl snapped glaring at him. Beside him Shigure whined looking between the two.

"Howl we need to talk, you and I. You cannot go on like this forever." Zevran said gently though he didn't touch the mage. He wished to reach out and draw Howl close to him. The mage glanced at him uneasily his hand going to the knife he now carried at his side. It saddened Zevran to see Howl armed, he had always trusted his companions to watch his back. After what had happened with Taliesin he could hardly blame him.

"If I don't wish it? What if I said I hated you? I wanted you to go?" Howl said his tone hard. Zevran froze about to reach out to Howl. His hand clenched into his fist as he let it fall to his side.

"I swore an oath to follow you until you released me from it. If you wish me to…go, I shall." Zevran forced the words past lips regretting each one. Even now he was being selfish wanting to take the mage back with him to Antiva. Howl watched him carefully measuring his words as his hand slowly gripped the hilt of the knife. Beside him Shigure let out another worried whine sensing the tension between the two. He nosed Howl's hand but the mage waved his hand to shush him.

"What if that wasn't enough for me?" Howl said his voice dropping to a low whisper. Zevran closed his eyes for a moment feeling the accursed words fall from his lips.

"Punish me then, if you must. I will not resist, my Warden." Zevran said opening his eyes. Howl's expression was unreadable as he stared at the assassin. Did he think it was another ploy? A trick to make him drop his guard?

"Close your eyes, then. And let me teach you a lesson." Howl said his voice emotionless. Zevran closed his eyes willingly hearing his heart pound in his ears. He heard the mage step closer his breathing ragged as he prepared himself to hurt his _former_ lover. Zevran did not fear pain he had grown accustomed to it. Any punishment inflicted upon him by Howl he deserved. He had punched him in the stomach, treated him as if he meant nothing to him.

A few seconds passed where Zevran was anticipating a blow. A slap to the face, a knife stabbing into his stomach. Howl twisting it with glee as he sought his revenge. He did not expect to feel the hilt of the knife being pressed into his hand. Nor a soft kiss on his cheek with Howl quietly sobbing.

"I could never hurt you. And I hate you for it." Howl whispered his voice choked with tears. Zevran opened his eyes in time to see Howl pulling away, his hand empty. He glanced down at his hand, surprised to see the knife there despite feeling it pressed into his hand. He looked up at Howl staring at him with a sort of desperation. He tossed it away, reaching out and grabbing Howl, pulling him into his arms.

Sobs shook Howl's frame as he buried his head in Zevran's chest. The assassin squeezed the smaller elf, sheltering him in his arms as he whispered to him. Without meaning to he spoke reassuring words in Antivan. Whispering them into Howl's hair as if they were spells of protection against the world. He didn't know how long they stood there, only that he led the mage to the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Zevran paid for a room, deciding they didn't need the company of their friends just then. He silently led the other elf into the room, bolted the door, and pulled him back into his arms in bed.

Zevran had removed his armor down to brown trousers and nothing more. He helped Howl out of his robes, underneath his lover wore a grey tunic with matching breeches. Zevran rested his back against the headboard, Howl lying against the chest. Shigure had fallen asleep on the carpet his legs twitching and low growls coming from him. Probably dreaming of chasing a rabbit, dumb mabari.

"You are far more than I deserve, Howl. I do not know if I should be happy or disappointed you did not hurt me when you had the chance." Zevran said into the silence. Outside it was getting dark he had sent a messenger to the Keep letting their companions know where they were. Howl needed to be alone for a while, he had said in the message. Time to gather his thoughts in solitude.

"Maybe. Maybe not, I thought it was karma." Howl said his voice hoarse from crying. Zevran glanced down at the thin elf lying in his arms. Howl had no muscle tone to speak of and months on the road had not helped him to put on weight. If anything, his mage had lost weight. Howl was skinny, but his skin was smooth and supple. Zevran ran an idle finger up Howl's arm marveling at how it was unblemished by scars.

"Karma? You will have to elaborate. Or speak English." Zevran said kissing a line down Howl's neck. His hands still shook when he laid them on the tiny Warden. He had come so close to losing him again…how many times would this happen until they fought the Archdemon?

"Karma is the belief if you do something bad, it comes back to haunt you. You do something good, it comes back to help you." Howl explained turning his head to return Zevran's kisses. For an instant their lips met igniting a fire within them both. Howl gasped into the kiss even as Zevran deepened it. Plunging his tongue into his lover's sweet mouth, pulling him closer as they made out. When he pulled away Howl was staring up at him his eyes clouded with desire. Howl took a deep breath, hoping to calm his pounding heart as put his hand on Zevran's chest. He admired the black swirls traveling from his midriff upwards complimenting his abs. With great reluctance he pushed the assassin back against the headboard shifting uncomfortably as he felt liquid fire beginning to pump through his veins.

"Why do you always use sex as a distraction? Why can't you talk to me like a…like a…"

"Are you going to say human being? We are both elves, though I think of myself as an Antivan first and elf second. Though if you want to role-play, we can do that as well. I'll be the dashing Grey Warden and you the beautiful assassin begging for me to spare your life. On your hands and knees of course. With rope. We will need a lot of rope." Zevran said dreamily. Howl glanced at him sensing his lover's mind had gone to a very dangerous place.

"ZEVRAN!"

"What? Do you wish to be the Grey Warden? We could swap roles, if you wish, but you will be begging for me to spare your life, yes? I am a Crow, after all. I was successful in my ambush."

"Oh, you!" Howl shouted in frustration. Howl grabbed the nearest weapon at hand to beat his lover with. His hand closed around a pillow which he brought up with a war cry. Aiming to beat Zevran to death with it. Zevran began laughing raising his arms to block the blows.

"Be careful, my dear Owl. We'll need that to cushion your head when I pierce your tender skin with my dagger." Zevran whispered against Howl's pointed ear. His hand snaked out and grabbed Howl's wrist, flipping him onto his stomach with him on top. Howl yelped in surprise beginning to flail about to escape. Zevran chuckled, grinding his hips against the Warden's backside. Howl let out what sounded like a cross between a squeak and a shriek. To the former assassin's surprise Howl managed to sit up causing him to tumble off back onto the large bed. Howl curled up his legs under him his face bright red as he shrank against the headboard.

"Zev!" Howl shrieked at him glaring accusingly. Zevran chuckled, crawling towards him a wicked grin on his face.

"Come now, my unwilling pet. Kneel before me and open your pretty mouth. Beseech me to spare your life." Zevran threatened with amusement. Howl gave him his most fearsome glare which just made the assassin chuckle again. Howl pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his knees as he dared his lover to conquer him. Zevran was only more than happy to oblige.

"You have a one track mind, don't you? I swear I have no idea how you ever made it to be a Crow with your sexual appetite." Howl accused him. Zevran cackled at that as he crawled closer to the mage. Howl narrowed his eyes; his glasses had fallen off during their tumble with the pillow fight.

"Killing and lovemaking go hand in hand, my lovely Owl. Now, shall I force myself upon you or will you go willingly? I'll be gentle if you are willing." Zevran said wickedly. Howl snorted grabbing a spare pillow and holding it to his chest.

"Zev, you told me you wanted to talk. So stop using sex as an excuse."

"Is it working?"

"Yes, but you're not getting any until we talk. You're the one who said we needed to discuss what happened." Howl pointed out. Zevran frowned he had hoped to avoid the subject now that he had managed to get his lover into a better mood. He sighed, sitting up on his knees as he glanced at the Warden.

"You always ruin my fun. Why must I always follow your orders? I should be in charge and you my sidekick." Zevran complained. Howl sighed shaking his head as crossed his legs still hugging the pillow to his chest.

"Screw you and your fun." Howl muttered beginning to pat the sheets for his glasses. Zevran's smirk returned as he reached out to grab the Warden.

"Gladly." Zevran said, his hand locking around Howl's upper arm. Howl let out a surprised yelp as he was suddenly yanked into Zevran's lap, who locked his arms around him pinning him there. Howl struggled feebly in his grasp but he was out of his element when it came to physical prowess.

"I'll only comply if you sit upon my lap like a good little Warden. I can't concentrate otherwise."

"I _can't concentrate_ sitting in your lap. But fine, we'll do it your way if it makes you feel better." Howl snapped though there was no real heat behind his words. Zevran laughed quietly, kissing Howl's shoulder in apology. He had never had cause to laugh so often with any of his bed partners. Had never…._played_ with them as he did Howl. To think he had ever wanted to kill his Warden scared him. How could anyone ever hate so kind a soul?

The couple remained silent for a time, enjoying each other's company. A bright fire burned in the grate casting the room in a warm glow as outside the light faded. Neither knew how to begin this awaited conversation. Howl was right, he had insisted they talked. After a moment Howl took a deep breath, turning his body to face him.

"Answer one question. What were you planning to do when you saw Taliesin?" Howl asked. His tone wasn't accusing nor curious, only stating a fact. Zevran sighed, closing his eyes as his mind shied away from the subject. He had wished they could both forget about the incident stupid as it may be.

"To take you to Antiva with me. I would kill Alistair, claiming that he was the only Grey Warden. You his manservant that I decided to keep as a souvenir for defeating the last Warden. It is not unusual for a Crow to take something to mark the occasion of killing a particularly difficult target. No one would have thought anything of it if I happened to show up with a slave." Zevran answered tiredly gazing at Howl as he answered. Howl stared at him half of his face cast in shadow by the flames. His Warden closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

"A part of me now wishes you had, to be honest. But I wouldn't have survived a year within the Crows. Even with you protecting me, I think someone would have…probably figured it out after a while." Howl whispered, a tear trickling down his cheek. Zevran reached up and wiped it away, drawing Howl close to him. The mage closed his eyes his head resting in the crook of his neck.

"What makes you think it was karma I had betrayed you?" Zevran asked brushing Howl's hair back. He undid Howl's braid, brushing out the wavy raven locks with his hand. Howl's hair spread out in shimmering waves covering his shoulders.

"Because for the reason I let you live. I…the main reason was because you were another elf." Howl answered raising his head to meet Zevran's eyes.

"All I could think was when I saw you lying there was 'thank the Maker I'm not alone anymore.' I wasn't the only knife ear in the group." Howl said his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Zevran leaned forward, kissing Howl gently on the forehead.

"Then you said you thought of yourself as Antivan first. I felt…I don't know, _inferior_ to you. You're so strong, Zevran. You never cry or regret the past. You have no idea how many times I watched you and wished I could have the strength to face the world like you do." Howl said awe in his voice. Zevran was so surprised to hear this he couldn't help but stare at his mage. Howl had thought….truly?

"I thank you for the compliment, Howl. But I am not nearly so strong as you think. You cry easily because you are overwhelmed, not weak. You were raised in the Circle most of your life. None of this is familiar to you, and yet you take it in stride. You're always smiling, fascinated by the world around you. I have always wished to see the world as you do." Zevran said sounding wistful. Howl looked as surprised as he must have seemed. They remained silent exchanging quiet kisses and soft grunts when the other moved in a way that aroused the other.

Finally, Howl buried his head against Zevran's neck. Inhaling his scent as his breath came in short gasps. He moved his hips against his assassin's hearing a low hiss as the friction stoked the passion in both of them. Zevran's grip tightened on Howl's back, moving down to his hips and forcing them both increase the pace. Quiet gasps echoed in his ear as Howl sat up, his face flushed as he gazed down at the beautiful man underneath him. Seeing his lover's eyes clouded aroused Zevran making him draw the other down in a passionate kiss.

"Make love to me, Zevran?" Howl asked breathlessly against Zevran's neck. Zevran smirked a moan escaping him as he reached up to remove Howl's tunic.

"I am yours to command, my Warden."

…

Fenris arrived at the Hanged Man two hours after sunset with Zevran in tow. The dark elf could not figure out why he felt so nervous. Was it because he had not given the Crow an option to come along with him? Now that he thought about it Fenris wondered if he had drank too much wine the day before. He had a high tolerance for alcohol and rarely got a hangover. Maybe he had hit his head _hard_ while he was drunk and did not remember. Yes, that would account for his madness. Certainly.

He wasn't fooling anyone.

Zevran glanced at the sign his face expressionless as he studied the sign. Fenris coughed trying to think of something to say. His guest had broken out in a sweat walking all the way from Hightown to Lowtown, but otherwise appeared to be fine. Fenris glanced at the blond haired elf whom seemed to be waiting for him to make a move. So he nodded at the inn going to open the door.

"So, this is…the Hanged Man."

"I can see that."

"The sign ruined the surprise, didn't it?"

"Hm, yes, but you could have fooled me." Zevran replied giving him a puzzled look. Fenris swallowed as he opened the door his mouth suddenly dry. A part of him wondered if this was a good idea considering Hawke hated the other elf. Well, Hawke was one to talk sheltering the riffraff he did. Including him as well, a former slave.

Fenris went in first Zevran right behind him. Inside there was already a good evening crowd going as drunken men leaned over their tables trying to catch the eye of a pretty wench. Thankfully none of them had drunk enough to start throwing up. One time Fenris had had to deal with a man who had thrown up in his lap. Suffice to say he had punched the man's lights out automatically having to go back to his mansion for a hot bath. Zevran looked around with renewed interest a smirk perking up the corner of his mouth.

"Reminds me of Tapsters Tavern in Orzammar. Though, the crowd then had been mainly dwarves and not half witted boys pretending to be men. Such charming places you take me to, Fenris." Zevran said a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Fenris shook his head smirking as well as he moved to a round table in the back. Varric was already there with a stack of cards by his hand talking to Isabela. So the rest of the group hadn't shown up yet, good.

"Hey elf, you have my five sovereigns?" Varric greeted him with a grin. He glanced at Zevran whose face had taken on a neutral expression. Fenris wondered if he should provide an explanation for the other elf's presence when Isabela beat him to the point.

"I was actually on my way to my room to get some coin, Zevran. Care to join me?" Isabela asked coming around the table. Before either dwarf or elf could do anything the pirate woman had already grabbed Zevran by the hand and had begun to lead him away. Fenris glared moving fast to block their way as he glared down at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Fenris snapped glaring down at her. Isabela smiled coyly at him as Zevran forcibly shoved her grip from his wrist. The pirate stared at him in surprise as Zevran shot her a glare.

"I agree with Fenris, what _are _you doing? I already turned you down before, Isabela. Do not force me to state it a second time." Zevran said his expression hardened into a scowl. Fenris was momentarily thrown off surprised by this sudden turn. From when the assassin had first woken up he had assumed he flirted with everyone. But Zevran stepped away from the pirate who was now glaring right back him.

"Oh, come _off it_ Zevran! He's dead, and he certainly-" Zevran reached up and covered her mouth his hand. Sparks flying from his eyes as he answered in a low hiss. Fenris wondered if the blond elf was even aware he standing next to him anymore.

"Do not speak of him like that to me, woman. Yes, he's dead. Leave me in peace. They are any number of elves with pretty eyes you can sleep with, I'm sure. I believe I passed the alienage on my way here. Why not check there?" The Antivan snapped his entire body tense underneath his cloak. Fenris glanced at Isabela who seemed more annoyed than angry. He also detected what he thought might be pity as she shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Fine, have it your way. It's been, what, eight years already Zevran? Even you have to admit it's pathetic the way you go on about him." Isabela said crossing her arms as she raised her brow. Zevran closed his eyes as if he were suddenly exhausted as he turned away from her.

"As I have said before, you did not know him. You didn't live with him as I did. You met him twice and told me quite frankly you thought I was a fool to my face with him standing right there. I know, Isabela. I know." Zevran said over his shoulder. Fenris stared at his retreating back as Zevran went to go take a seat at the table as far away from Varric as he could get. Fenris glanced at the pirate who raised a questioning brow at him.

"You still haven't asked him about the mage?"

"I do not think it's my place to ask. If he wishes to share that with me then so be it. From what I just saw and heard it's none of your business of how he goes about things." Fenris replied. Isabela gave him a sympathetic look which was strange to see on her face.

"Zevran is a broken man, Fenris. You would be better off cutting it off now rather than dragging it out. It's painful to watch and quite frankly you're wasting your time. He won't go for you." Isabela answered as she motioned to the elf in question. Varric appeared to be ignoring Zevran's presence as the assassin watched the other patrons making idiots out of themselves.

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking about accursed woman. Unless you know something I don't, which I'm assuming you do." Fenris said watching Zevran carefully. Zevran didn't appear distressed as he had a moment ago but he certainly wasn't happy. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to bring him along. Isabela looked at the assassin as well shaking her head as she stepped past the lyrium elf to get to her room.

"I do, but I don't think I'll say anything just yet. You know where to find me if you want me." Isabela said with a toss of her hair as she disappeared into the hallway. Fenris sighed shaking his head going to the bar to get a drink.

When he came back to the table two drinks in hand Varric was still refusing to talk to Zevran. Zevran didn't glance at the dwarf but appeared bored rather than tense as he had been earlier. He was idly tracing the grain of the wood on the table with a finger. Fenris placed both drinks on the table, one for him and one in front of Zevran. He bent his head his mouth next to the assassin's ear as he pulled out a chair for himself.

"I'm sorry, once the others arrive we'll leave. This was a bad idea." Fenris whispered quietly, raising his head as he sat down beside Zevran. Zevran glanced at him in surprise opening his mouth to ask something.

"It's cider, not alcohol. Ironic it tastes better than the ale here but such are most things in this city." Fenris said before the other elf could inquire. Zevran seemed to catch on nodding his head as he stole a glance at Varric who appeared to be shuffling the card thoroughly in preparation for the game.

"Thank you. I appreciate the thought." Zevran said his eyes saying he didn't mean the cider. His attention turned away from Fenris to watch the drunken crowd as he sipped at his drink.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed until Fenris was beginning to wonder if he should just gather Zevran and leave when the first of his friends arrived. Aveline came in with Merrill and the two women appeared to be in deep conversation about satin bows. Upon spotting Zevran Aveline didn't shy away and greeted the assassin.

"Zevran! A pleasure to see you up and about. I take it you've been laying low since I haven't read anything in the reports. You should give Fenris a few tips, he's always giving me problems." Aveline said causally as she took a seat on the other side of Zevran. Fenris shot her a mock glare as Merrill went up to discuss something with Varric.

"I do not! I have endeavored to exist with less offense and I have. It's not my fault if Hawke keeps causing trouble wherever he goes." Fenris defended. A smirk went across his face however at the thought of the apostate.

"Don't believe him. He really is the reason we're running around all over Kirkwall every hour of the day. He just uses Hawke as a convenient excuse." Aveline whispered to Zevran. Fenris must have heard them because he rolled his eyes and muttered something in Tevinter.

"But isn't Hawke the one who accepts jobs from just about everyone? I think one of these days he's going to go home to find his house burned to the ground with what he gets up to." Merrill said overhearing their conversation. Varric sighed as he began to deal out the cards for Fenris, Aveline, and himself around the table.

"Alright, I've made up my mind. You playing Wicked Grace too assassin or are you here to look pretty?" Varric asked with a sigh. Zevran glanced at the dwarf smirking in response as he rested his elbows on the table.

"Oh neither my friend. Since I have such incredible luck my host has brought me along so he can win some extra coin. He threatened to take his revenge out on my body if I fail." Zevran said smoothly. Fenris had been in the process of taking a drink of ale and snorted in his drink. He put down the mug coughing and spluttering in surprise as Zevran stared at him with wide eyed concern.

"I said no such thing!"

"Oh, but you were implying it. Do not worry my dear Fenris, I shall not fail you."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I find it rather sexy Fenris's tattoos can be activated unintentionally if he's aroused. Tis true! Just go on youtube and watch the lighting tattoo kissing scene between him and female Hawke. XD_


	22. Remembrance

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Well, in June is my birthday. So until then I shall be updating twice a week in celebration! *cheers* Finally have a drinking party with Fenris. By the way, I was curious and started reading some forums on Zevran Fenris, well, reading people compare the two of them. Very, very interesting conversations. Though a lot of people pointed out DA II wasn't NEARLY as good as Origins, which I can agree with. However, when it comes to the characters I believe they win in both categories. I just hate that you're stuck in Kirkwall pretty much the entire time. When I started playing DA II I seriously expected to be able to go to Antiva. Oh, and just got "The Calling" which is one of three Dragon Age novels. XD  
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**DA ORIGINS**

Howl arched his back with a low moan, throwing his head back gasping for breath as he rode the beautiful Antivan. Zevran had a death grip on his mage's hips slamming him down each time. With a sharp cry the wave of their pleasure crested and crashed down on top of them. Electricity felt as if it were dancing in Zevran's veins. A haze of euphoria descended upon the couple as Howl slumped, bracing himself with shaking limbs so as not to collapse on his lover.

With gentle hands Zevran brought the mage down to lay beside him. The sweet scent of their lovemaking strong as he planted feather light kisses all over the mage's face. Howl's face was flushed, his eyes closed from exhaustion as his assassin kissed him. Zevran pushed himself up on his elbows so he hovered over the mage continuing to rain kisses on his face. After a minute Howl opened bleary eyes still glazed from orgasm as he gazed up at him. Zevran smirked, capturing Howl's lips in a passionate kiss as moved on top of him. He incessantly pressed their hips together drawing a low moan from his lover.

"Don't you ever stop? We just got done and you want to go again?" Howl groaned, turning his head away and burying it into the pillow. Zevran chuckled moving to kissing the mage's exposed neck and shoulders. A shudder went through the mage again as he lifted his head, glaring this time as he pushed Zevran's face away.

"Ah, come now my dear Warden, surely you're not done yet? I spared your life at the risk of angering the Crows. Surely you are grateful?" Zevran teased nibbling the tip of Howl's ear. Howl yelped turning his head to glare at the assassin his entire face red. Zevran laughed moving his hips enticingly against the mage as he snaked an arm around Howl's midsection pinning him against his body.

"We stopped playing 'Thank the Stupid Assassin' two hours ago. Actually, it was my turn until you just…" Howl said trailing off. Zevran chuckled noticing Howl blush again as he gave him love bites along the line of his throat. Underneath him the smaller elf squirmed uncomfortably trying to dislodge the blond atop him.

"Until I conquered you and took possession of your body. I know. You lost the fight, so what do you expect but to be taken advantage of? You were captured, my darling Howl." Zevran said pausing in his torture of his lover as he raised his head to gaze down at him. Underneath him he could feel Howl still trying to catch his breath. His body shifting every few seconds to ease the weight of the other atop him.

"Whatever. We're both going to sleep. I'm exhausted and you can just quietly lay there suffering in silence." Howl said this time using all his physical strength to try and push the other off. Unfortunately, he met resistance in the form of a sleek chest and hard abs as Zevran bent over him smiling evilly.

"Are you giving me an order, Grey Warden? I may have to tie you back up and beat you for your insolence. How ungrateful you are to your benefactor." Zevran threatened as he bent his head and bit Howl's neck. Howl cursed at him struggling to get out from under the Antivan. He managed to flip onto his back so they were facing each other, but Zevran just laughed at Howl's protests.

"We did it _three_ times already! And you still want to…? Maker's breath, Zevran, got to sleep." Howl groaned covering his face with his forearm. Zevran laughed, reaching up and removing the offending limb. Howl sighed as Zevran bent down to plant a chaste kiss upon his lover's lips.

"You promised I could ravish you tonight. I'm intending to milk you as much as I can. Besides, you can't complain you haven't been enjoying yourself." Zevran whispered against the sleek skin. Howl let out an annoyed sigh as he relaxed against the pillows, still glaring at the assassin.

"Fine. Do your worst." Howl said defiantly. Cackling with triumph Zevran descended upon the mage again with a renewed vigor.

"As a matter of fact, I shall do my best."

…

Later after their lovemaking Howl was curled up in Zevran's arms fast asleep. The skilled Antivan assassin had managed to coax the mage once more before the mage had promptly seemed to faint soon after. He suspected his Warden had faked being exhausted but they had had a long day. Arguing with each other, Howl crying, and finally succumbing to his lover's advances could take it out of a person. So yes, even Zevran had to admit he felt the familiar pull of sleep beginning to prey upon him.

He closed his eyes trying to distract himself from the crackling of the flames. Despite the fire the room felt cold. Zevran nuzzled Howl's head inhaling his familiar scent. Howl smelled of spring rain, a storm awaiting on the horizon. The body felt warm against him and he let out contented sigh, pulling closer to him.

Zevran couldn't bear to sleep most nights after the death of Rinna. Her steel colored eyes haunted him in his sleep. Damning him for an eternity for the cruel way he had tortured her. In one horrific nightmare their roles were switched. He was pleading with her to spare his life for Howl's sake if not his own. His pleas fell on deaf ears just as hers had as she gleefully slit his throat. Each time he awoke certain he would find a pool of blood around him. Instead, his pillows were soaked with sweat.

The first time he had seen the mage came back to him with surprising clarity. Howl had come sprinting into the trap, breathing hard as his companions followed close behind him. Not encumbered by the weight of armor the mage had grabbed a fistful of his robes and hurried after the woman thinking she needed help. When the tree fell Howl was already too far away for it to affect him, his companions diving out of the way and landing hard on the ground with grunts.

For a moment, Zevran knew, their eyes had met. He remembered thinking Howl's eyes reminded him of sapphires. Instead of being scared or angry, Howl merely seemed puzzled by the whole thing. His gaze trailing to the golden haired elf across the clearing from him. It unnerved Zevran to see a mark so calm in the face of death. He kept his face immobile, focusing on what was to come.

He had given the signal for his hirelings to appear. They filed along on top drawing arrows and fitting them to their bows. Now his target's eyes took on the familiar panic as the realization of what was coming set in. Behind him his companions braced themselves as they glared at the offending attacker across from them. When he drew his daggers, anticipating going down in flames.

"The Grey Warden's die here!" He screamed the final death toll on his life. For a quiet moment, right before he had attacked, his mark appeared to suddenly find calm.

Those azure eyes had focused on him seeming to pierce his soul. It was as if his entire being was exposed to this individual to judge as he saw fit. The thought both fueled his rage and stilled his hand for a fraction of a second. For the first time in his life Zevran Arainai hesitated in killing his designated mark.

The moment passed, however, as he let out a scream charging the group of companions. Originally in the front, Howl's eyes widened as he turned right back around and ducked underneath the arm of Alistair who was charging into battle. Zevran engaged him his daggers slamming down on the long sword sparks flying as metal hit metal as he ducked out of the way of the shield. It was far too easy to merely slip to the side and trip up the man. He went down easily as behind him the mage woman flung fireballs as fast as she could.

As he turned to engage another one of the fireballs landed to close to him. Blasting him clean off his feet knocking him down. Zevran rose up cursing in Antivan just as he caught sight of Howl for a second time. The mage had dropped his staff, sneaking up behind the girl. Zevran saw the elf pick up a rock, come up, and simply hit her on the temple with his weapon. A look of surprise crossed the woman's face as she went down, clearly dead as the wound began to gush out blood. How clever of his mark.

He turned his head and saw the Qunari and other mage were fighting above. They both went down as well, but not before bringing down the others with them. The clearing was silent in a matter of minutes. For a moment Zevran had simply stood there craning his neck to see if any remained.

His men on the other side of the trap had tried to rush down in order to aid their comrades but the stupid woman's fireballs had killed them off. Zevran knew he was lucky he had only been caught by the edge of the blast. Judging by the charred corpses he would not be having any help from them.

He had gone over to Alistair, crouching next the unconscious warrior as he grabbed him by his bright red hair. Zevran placed the edge dagger, his Crow dagger, the one he had managed to hold onto when the blast hit him against the delicate skin of the man's throat. To think, with a flick of his wrist this man's life would end.

A rock hit him in the back of the head.

Zevran stopped for a moment, waiting. Another rock hit him this time bouncing off his shoulder. He felt a snarl forming on his lips as he whipped around to see who it was. Howl stood not far away flinging rocks at him with incredible accuracy. Such a simple tactic and yet it fueled the rage within Zevran. He had come up here to die, and for them to fall so easily pissed him off.

With a roar he went after the mage. Terrified, Howl dropped the rock he had been about to throw at the assassin and darted up the side of the gorge. Zevran pursued him, easily gaining up on him from years of Crow training against a mage whose only memory of setting foot on real grass had been several weeks ago upon becoming a Grey Warden.

Howl skidded to a stop when he saw his escape was barricaded, turning to no doubt run back down when Zevran came into view. Their eyes met again for an instant, but this time Zevran didn't acknowledge the other. He just kept advancing a dry laugh escaping him as he came up to the Grey Warden.

"You could have slipped past me, you know. Let your companions die at my blade. What did you hope to accomplish, flinging pebbles?" Zevran inquired as much from curiosity as anger.

"I was hoping if I threw them hard enough you would be knocked out like the girl." Howl answered his voice remarkably steady. Zevran glared at him but his target appeared to have all his wits about him. His mark's hands were shaking visibly so clearly the mage was nervous.

"Amuse me, if you will. How would you like to die? Since your companions seem to be gone I find myself in the mood to take requests." Zevran mocked him. Instead of begging for his life or even showing a hint of anger Howl met his gaze.

"Oh." Howl said. Zevran raised a brow drawing closer to the mage as his grip tightened around the dagger. Should he slit his throat or stab him in the heart?

"'Oh' is not an answer, Warden. And believe me, you do not want me to decide how you die." Zevran said as he approached. Howl stared at him his eyes fixating on the dagger as it drew ever closer thirsting for blood.

"No, it's not that. It's just I've thought about it before. How I would like to die someday, if given the choice." Howl explained. This time Zevran paused now only two feet away from the Warden. Despite his training he didn't reach out and kill the mage as he should. Instead, engaging him in conversation. Truly, he would most likely have to engage Darkspawn in battle in order to die. But why not satisfy this one last desire before the inevitable?

"You have? And what did you come up with? You intrigue me, I may just grant your request after all." Zevran said dropping his mocking tone. Howl glanced up at him then as if noticing him for the first time. Zevran figured the mage was resigned to his fate and saw no cause to beg for his life now.

"I always wished to die protecting someone I love. Can you think of a nobler way to die?" Howl answered his gaze focused on the Antivan. Zevran stared at him in complete shock for a horrifying moment thinking the mage could read his mind. But it passed as he let out a soft sigh, running his thumb along the dagger to test its edge. Sharp enough for the pain to be quick. He wouldn't draw this out.

"No, I cannot. I regret to say that is something I cannot give you. But I will make it quick. You won't feel any pain, I promise." Zevran said stepping closer to the mage so they were almost touching.

His target's breath hitched, but still he did not cry. Zevran admired him for his bravery in the face of death. None of his marks had ever taken it in astride to allow themselves to be murdered. As he pressed the edge of his dagger against his target's throat the mage gave him a hard shove.

Zevran stumbled back a few steps and suddenly he was falling backward. Right before he hit the ground he realized what had happened. His target had remained calm because he knew he was going to win. Had planned to use himself as bait to save his companions, and he the trained Crow had fallen for it. Howl had been standing right at the very edge of the cliff backing up when Zevran had come close to slit his throat. A brilliant plan…and his entire world shattered.

…

Zevran flailed in bed the sensation of falling still with him. Which promptly made him fall out of bed altogether with a solid thud. Stunned he lay there for a few seconds staring stupidly up at the ceiling. He heard rustling as his lover awoke a familiar head appearing peering down at him with a wide-eyed stare.

"What happened?" Howl asked. He had let his hair out of his braid and the tangled mass covered his head in a black veil. Blinking stupidly, Zevran got up and pulled himself back into bed.

"You pushed me." Zevran answered in his mind's eye seeing those same sapphires that were gazing at him now watching him fall. Piercing his soul as they damned him.

"No I didn't. You kicked me, actually. So thank you for that, and then sort of started waving your arms in the air and fell out of bed." Howl answered beginning to smile. He covered his mouth trying to stifle the laughter bubbling up his throat. Zevran turned, taking Howl's hand as he stared at him intently.

"Who was it?" Zevran asked nearly holding his breath. Howl glanced at him and seeing he was serious sobered up.

"What do you mean?"

"When we first met, I asked you how you wanted to die. You told me protecting someone you love. Who was that you loved?" Zevran asked holding his breath. Howl didn't say anything for a minute. Then he put his hand over Zevran's squeezing it as he answered.

"If you had asked me then I would have said no one. Now? It would be you, Zevran. I wouldn't mind going to the Maker protecting you." Howl answered quietly. Zevran felt a sob in his throat but beat it down, drawing Howl in a desperate hug.

"I'm sorry for trying to kill you, Howl. If I had…I meant to die after I killed you." Zevran said suddenly desperate to be forgiven. Terror seized him as with a sudden realization it occurred to him Howl may have just been with him to spare his own life. Howl stared him confusion written over his features and worry as he scooted closer to his lover.

"Zevran, I never blamed you for it. Any of it, as a matter of fact. I love you, and to hold a grudge against you is impossible." Howl said returning the hug. Zevran let out a surprised laugh, drawing back to kiss his Warden.

They had both been lucky then, that day. To think the person who had pushed him off the cliff, he had just been about to kill would change his life. Lift the darkness surrounding him one small flicker of light at a time. Making him laugh simply for the sake of laughing. Telling him stories late into the night his voice excited as he described a particularly interesting part of a story. Waking up in the morning to be greeted by kind words and a kiss. Falling asleep at night holding the most precious thing in this world to him in his arms. Those same sapphires gazing at him, not blaming him for his mistakes. Understanding his faults, accepting him for who he was, and yet still able to love him.

"Howl, one day I will take you to Antiva with me. Once all this is over I'll take for a walk along the docks. I'll buy you fresh orchids every day so I can lay them on your pillow. I'll show you the apartments I grew up in, the small shop where they sell the best Antivan leather. I'll-" Howl put a finger to his lips a warm smile on his face as he replied.

"Zevran, the best thing you could have given me is your love. With that alone, I can do anything." Howl said. Zevran laughed, kissing him full on the mouth as he drew him down into the covers with him.

They made love all morning into the afternoon. Once they returned to their companions Howl did have to do a lot of explaining and apologizing to everyone. He lied it was because he was nervous of fighting the Archdemon. Alistair, surprisingly, forgave his friend but only if he would polish his armor. Howl agreed even though he didn't know how, and Zevran had an interesting time teaching him.

Two months later, Howl died in battle protecting Ferelden. He never got a chance to set foot in Antiva or wake up to fresh orchids held by a beautiful assassin who swore to love him till the end of time.


	23. Luck

All in all, Zevran did not fail him.

Fenris won back his five sovereigns along with ten more from Aveline, Hawke, Varric, and Anders. By the time three hours had gone by he was still winning until Hawke threw down his cards and put up his hands in surrender.

"I give up, you win. I don't know what the hell you drank or what you did, but where I can get some? Anders, is there a spell for good luck?" Hawke asked and Fenris wasn't sure if the mage was being serious or not. Anders stared at him as if he were crazy as he put down his cards as well. Merrill didn't play instead sitting next to Varric holding Bianca as a bodyguard. She also talked to the dwarf and her other companions as they played to keep tensions down. By this time Fenris was grinning like a fool as he glanced at the pile of gold coins before him.

"Alright, I'll pay for the drinks since I'm the winner. What do you say, Varric? One more round for old time's sake before you fall into debt?" Fenris asked laughing at the thought. The dwarf for his part smirked good humoredly as he gathered the cards, shuffling the deck before sliding it across the table to the lyrium elf.

"Here, you take these. They're probably cursed to give you a good hand each time if we play. Get a new deck I can use for next week." Varric ordered though he said it good naturedly.

Fenris accepted the pack of cards with a sense of relish. Holding them up so everyone could see them before tucking them into his armor. It was a tradition among them, whoever won a round with a particularly good streak received the deck of cards for that evening as a trophy. Along with the honor of paying for everyone's drinks for the evening. This was his first time winning the deck. The previous titles being held by Varric, Isabela, and not surprisingly Merrill since she was close friends of both. He was already planning dragging a pedestal from one of the abandoned rooms and setting the deck of cards on it.

"You really are good luck, aren't you? Everyone is going to think I'm cheating if I bring you along with me every time we play." Fenris said to Zevran who had accompanied him to the bar. Fenris was in the process of counting out the change to pay for the drinks as Zevran laughed shaking his head.

"I admit, I feel guilty for having given you so much! Perhaps I shall have to sit beside someone else next time?" Zevran said with a grin as ordered another cider from the bar. Fenris shot him a glare, but paid for the extra drink as well since he now had coin to spare.

As they came back to the table Isabela had made an appearance while the pair had been at the bar. She appeared to be talking to Hawke and straightened when she saw the two elves. Zevran muttered something in Antivan, quiet enough for only Fenris to hear as he came up to the table. Isabela offered the assassin a mischievous smile which Zevran returned with one of his own as he took his seat. Fenris glanced at two wondering if their earlier argument was moot. Aveline had left her seat with a good-bye to the group since she had to return home to her husband Donnic. Isabela made a comment which resorted in Aveline making a threat as she was leaving. Just as Fenris returned to the table Isabela seated herself in the empty seat beside Zevran. Zevran raised a brow but made no move to dissuade her as on his other side the lyrium elf took his seat as well.

"I seem to find myself surrounded by beautiful people. How quaint." Zevran said smugly. Varric rolled his eyes as Hawke smirked glancing at Anders as he did so.

"Oh, I don't know. Having a possessed mage makes for an interesting threesome." Hawke said taking a drink of ale. Anders balked glaring at his partner who was pretending to innocently study a group of men arguing over a young woman who was giggling.

"Quite true. Such a feeling of completion and warmth within one's body…always held close. A convenient means of carrying along the third party as well I must say." Zevran replied and Anders looked as if he wanted to blast both of them sky high. Fenris sighed massaging the bridge of his nose. Merrill was looking as if she might leave as well idly fiddling with her hair as Varric lectured her on the safety of walking around dark alleys at night.

"Zevran, do feel well enough to head back to Hightown or do you want me buy a room here for the night?" Fenris asked the assassin. On the other side of Zevran a wicked grin crossed Isabela's face as she clearly began forming plans. Fenris had to hold back from grabbing his prisoner and dragging him out of the Hanged Man.

"So you do seek to ravish in celebration me after all? My dear Fenris, I had no idea! And here I am dressed in actual clothes instead of wearing you. Shame, really." Zevran commented as he looked Fenris up and down as if planning the best way to remove his spiked armor.

"I'll take that as a yes, then." Fenris said deciding to ignore Zevran. Zevran's smirk only widened as Fenris rose from the table saying his good-byes to his companions. Hawke didn't want him to leave wishing to win back his coin but Fenris just waved him off. The Champion would just have to wait to take the title next week if he was lucky.

Zevran was already ahead of him heading towards the front of the Hanged Man. He easily passed through the crowd as men milled around him. A few turned their heads at the blond head hurried past them and whispered to their friends. Even more heads began to turn as they appraised the exquisite creature and began to make inquiries to the bartender if he was "available" for a night.

Fenris narrowed his eyes a low growl in his throat as he went after him. Honestly, could Zevran draw any more attention to himself? It was a wonder the Crows hadn't caught up to him sooner. As he made to go after him Isabela trailed after him, grabbing the dark elf's arm as she leaned forward, her silken lips brushing against his ear as she spoke.

"Eating out of his hand." Isabela reminded him with a soft purr as she let him go. Fenris glared at her keeping an eye on the wayward elf as turned to her.

"I am not. He needs to be looked after, if I leave him to his own devices for even a minute people will start arguing who gets to bring him home." Fenris hissed keeping his voice low. Thankfully, the others didn't appear to hear their conversation. A look of sympathy crossed Isabela's face as she shrugged her shoulders.

"I keep telling you, pet, let it go. He's charming but he's not the one for you. If you all you want is sex take it, and then dump him here. I'll make sure he gets out of Kirkwall safely I give you my word." Isabela said pulling away from the elf. Before Fenris could reply she had gone back to the table commenting loudly what a disgustingly cute couple Hawke and Anders made.

Fenris turned back and began to head to the front door. Zevran stood there arms folded scowling at having to wait for the other elf. As he reached the light haired elf going past him to push the door open what Isabela said snagged in his mind. A week ago, he hadn't believed her. Now, though, he had to pause and examine what had transpired.

He _had_ been more vigilant of Zevran's needs. Going out of his way to make him comfortable, that he had companionship. Fenris tried to reason this out as simply following healer's orders since Anders had constantly nagged him to be kind to the elf. Glancing at Zevran who walked slightly behind him, cloak pulled tight against the cold night air Fenris felt….what? Other than his predicament Zevran didn't give him any reasons to act aggressively towards him. Seeming to be fine to follow along with whatever he decided.

Fenris decided he would let it lay in wait, for now. See where this strange assassin would lead him.

**DA Origins**

…..

"Shit." Howl said stopping in front of the alienage. Zevran stopped as well glancing at his partner then back at the gates. They were drawn up, finally, and Shigure barked impatiently.

"If we are to stand about looking pretty, may I suggest the middle of the marketplace? We are sure to get many admirers by standing there rather than here." Zevran suggested which just earned him a withering glare.

It had been quite a battle that morning since yesterday when Howl had gone to explore the alienage alone he had seen a human beaten up. Panicking, he'd run all the way back to the estate and declared only him and Zevran would be going in. This erupted in protests from the other companions since they thought it was dangerous enough he had even gone by himself. Howl made the argument they were trying to _calm_ the elves in the alienage not make them more edgy. Sten had been most resistant, insisting on accompanying them. Only after Howl promised to take Shigure along did the Qunari resign stating Zevran had better watch the mage's back or risk being turned into qamek.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I mean, you're more cute than scary. I can't really cast elemental spells and Shigure is….well, okay I guess he's scary." Howl said glancing down at his hound. Shigure's ears pricked up at his name and Howl patted him on the head. Zevran sighed reaching up to touch the pommel of his dagger for reassurance as he motioned to the entrance.

"I'm sure being attractive will play in our favor, my dear Warden. Do you want me to lead? I'll pretend to swoon at the first person who tries to start a fight with us." Zevran suggested. Howl just shook his head beginning to walk into the alienage.

"No, just stay close, kay? I'm nervous, I've never been around so many other elves before." Howl said his voice shaking as they entered.

Indeed, as soon as they walked in heads turned to watch these intruders entering their home. Zevran noticed a few men roll their shoulders in anticipation of taking on the newcomers. Shigure was alert right by Howl's side ears pricked for danger. Howl kept walking his head held high as he avoided making eye contact with the other elves. Zevran came up on Howl's other side, taking his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Relax, they will not attack strange elves without just cause. A alienage is a very close community, they are simply watching us to see what we are like." Zevran explained. Howl glanced at him his face visibly pale behind his glasses. He offered a brave smile in response letting out a nervous laugh as he clung to his lover's hand with a death grip.

"Alright, but as soon as I see someone go to punch me I'm ducking behind you." Howl said. Zevran smirked, giving Howl's land one last squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. Visions of slamming the other against the wall and making out with him to stake his claim on the other sent shivers down his spine. Undoubtedly the others had made a note of him holding Howl's hand, an intimate gesture. From the corner of his eye he saw a few glares soften and smile at the exchange.

Howl turned around a corner and paused, staring at the crowd. A red haired elven woman was shouting and attempting to make herself heard. Always one to help, Howl went forward and began talking to her. Zevran waited watching them talk as he eyed the healers guarding the hospice. He didn't like the look of them, especially since the woman named Shianni claimed they had been stealing people. This smelled of a setup and he wanted to get Howl away from here.

"Can't you do something? Please?" Shianni begged Howl who looked a bit lost. He glanced at Zevran for help but turned his attention back to her, seeming to draw strength from his partner.

"Of course, I'll go talk to them. I'm sure it's nothing." Howl reassured her. Zevran nodded to the woman in what he hoped was a noble manner as he followed the mage through the crush of bodies. Howl gently nudged through the crowd coming up front to where the healers were.

"Sir, can I ask you a few questions?" Howl asked having to raise his voice above the complaints of the crowd. One of the men glanced down and his eyes widened as he suddenly grabbed the mage by the arm. Zevran felt rage burning in his chest as he shoved the last few elves out of his way to reach his mage.

"You poor man! Look at you, please, come right this way." The healer said already beginning to pull Howl away. Alarm crossed Howl's face as he dug in his heels skidding along the cobblestones as the man dragged him towards the hospice.

"I'm fine! Let go!" Howl yelled at him trying to twist out of the man's grasp. Zevran caught up and grabbed Howl around the waist simultaneously hitting a pressure point on the man's wrist. The healer let out a yelp of pain his grip slipping on the elf. Zevran hauled Howl back shoving him behind him as Shigure bounded towards them growling in warning if they tried to manhandle his master.

"I assure you, my good man. My partner is _quite_ healthy in every respect. Grab him again and next time I won't just give you a tap on the hand." Zevran said all smiles even though behind him he felt Howl grab his hand. Zevran squeezed it reassuring him as he glared up at the man. The healer glared at him as if he had personally insulted him. Perhaps he had. No man here would be used to an _elf_ ordering them around.

"Young man, your friend is ill! If we don't get him inside to be treated right away he'll drop dead. Come, why don't you hand him over? We'll have him back to you as soon as we can." The man insisted holding out his hands to show he had no weapons. Zevran was about ready to draw his daggers heart pounding in his ears. A hand fell on his shoulder as Howl bent forward to whisper in his ear.

"They may sense the taint in me. Let me go, I'll holler if I need help." Howl said stepping around the assassin. Zevran stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. He grabbed a fistful of the mage's robes and yanked him back.

"Don't be a fool, Howl! Let's go back to the estate and bring the others with us. I don't trust these men." Zevran said desperate to take the mage back to safety. Howl looked undecided as he glanced back at his partner than the mage.

"Trust me, I'll be fine." Howl assured him extracting himself from the assassin's grip. Zevran stared at him mentally begging the mage to come back to him. Beside him Shigure whined, stepping forward to follow.

"Don't do this." Zevran said and he felt his voice crack. He cursed himself for sounding so weak but he couldn't bear to see Howl walk away from him so willingly. The scare with Taliesin still rang through his bones making want to hold the mage ever closer.

"Stay here and protect Zevy, kay? I'll be back in a little while. Tell the others we're staying at the Gnawed Noble Tavern again tonight. I don't want them coming to the _rescue_ when there's nothing wrong." Howl said to Zevran as if he couldn't see the broken expression on the other's face.

Shigure whined again but stayed his ground. Zevran watched as Howl willingly allowed himself to be pulled away into the hospice. As the door slammed shut a thought occurred to him. Howl could turn into a Blight Bear. He no longer needed his protection.


	24. Alone

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _You all thought I forgot, didn't you? Today's my brother's birthday! He's sixteen and a pain in the butt. O.o I love him anyway, but when I told him how much I had typed he goes and says to me "You need to get out more." My response, "I have cyberspace! MUHAHAHAHHAHHAHA!" I go to school, I get good grades, and I'm clearly delightfully dingy. What more could a girl ask for?_

Fenris watched Zevran closely during the next two weeks. By then he had grown used to the other elf's presence. It wasn't uncommon for Fenris to wake up to the smell of coffee and whatever the assassin managed to cook for breakfast. Zevran often accused him in jest he had only kidnapped him so he could serve as a housewife. Fenris never mentioned it, but he was grateful to have home cooked meals rather than eating at Hawke's house or the Hanged Man.

One morning when Fenris awoke he didn't hear Zevran moving about. Wondering if his guest had slept in he wandered into the dining room. A dish and mug covered by a handkerchief sat near his usual seat. Curious, Fenris walked over to his seat and pulled off the cloth. A piece of parchment fluttered to the ground which he snatched up. On it was a written note in looping handwriting.

_Attending to a personal matter. I will be back this afternoon._

_Z._

"Attending to what?" Fenris asked the empty mansion. His voice sounded loud in the quiet space and he snorted, crumpling the paper up and tossing it into the fire. Why did he feel disappointed reading that note?

As he sat down to eat it occurred to him the food could be poisoned. Zevran may have hired someone to smuggle him out of Kirkwall and was halfway to the Free Marches. Glancing down at the meticulously prepared omelet then the lukewarm coffee he severely doubted it. Why go through the trouble? There were any number of sharp implements around the place Zevran could have used to slit his throat in his sleep. Not to mention the countless meals he had cooked for the both of them to serve to him.

Well, if the food was poisoned he would no doubt die on a full stomach.

True to his word, around the afternoon Fenris heard the downstairs open and close. He was relaxing on the divan which had now become his bed, reading _A Slave's Life_ by Sharatan when Zevran appeared at the top of the steps. He was slightly breathless, the hood of his cloak pushed back. What was interesting was the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. They consisted of wildflowers: honeysuckle, dandelions, orange poppies, and decorated with sprays of long green grass. Even from where he lay Fenris could smell their sweet perfume.

"What are those for?" Fenris asked not bothering to rise. Since Hawke had said he would not have to call on him today he hadn't bothered to put on his armor. Instead settling for a black tunic and breeches. Zevran glanced at him then down at the flowers as if noticing he were carrying them for the first time.

"You, who else?" Zevran answered tiredly going over and setting the entire bouquet on Fenris's chest. Surprised Fenris quickly grabbed the base of the spray of flowers, setting his book down so he could stand up as Zevran walked into the bedroom.

Zevran's mouth was set in a thin line his face grim as he whipped the cloak off his shoulders. He threw it on the bed and removed his shirt. Fenris followed him, stopping near the doorway watching the other elf the flowers clutched in his hand.

Zevran had taken to wearing billowing renaissance shirts which he claimed made him feel as if he were flying. Fenris didn't believe him since he thought the reason lie in vanity. The shirts complimented the Antivan's sinewy muscles giving him an elegance Fenris thought only accomplished by women. When the assassin walked the shirt rippled making it appear as if he were dancing rather than strolling into the marketplace.

"Thank you." Fenris said unsure of what else to say. Zevran glanced at him his shirt cast over his arm. He held up the flowers for emphasis and the blond nodded turning back to the task at hand.

"You're always very kind to me, my friend. I simply wished to show my appreciation." Zevran said his voice lacking the usual flirtations always at the tip of his tongue.

As a matter of fact Fenris noticed his guest appeared tired. There were bags under Zevran's eyes and his hands shook as he looked for a clean shirt. Wondering what was wrong Fenris carefully set the gift on a shelf going over to the other elf. Zevran had found a light brown one which he put his nose, deciding it was clean, slipped it on.

"Zevran, where were you this morning?" Fenris asked as Zevran sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. The blond glanced up at him blinking owlishly. He looked as if he hadn't slept last night.

"I went down to the docks. I had to…pay a visit to someone." Zevran said returning back to the task of removing his boots. He tossed them into the corner with a sigh, pulling back the covers of the bed so he could slip underneath. Fenris furrowed his brow as he tried to make sense of the answer.

"Isabela? I'm not going to throw you out if you've chosen to bed her." Fenris said surprised at his own words. Zevran glared at him insulted by the suggestion. Then his face softened as he sighed, shaking his head.

"No, to celebrate an anniversary. I thought it wouldn't be for another few months but since I've been fleeing the Crows for so long…I lost track of time." Zevran explained as he curled his legs under the covers. He laid down closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

"You could have woken me. It's not safe for you to go alone. When did you leave?" Fenris asked going to sit at the foot of the bed. Zevran didn't open his eyes as he answered.

"It was still dark out. I tried to leave early enough so you wouldn't notice I was gone. Seems I failed." Zevran answered beginning to slip into sleep. Fenris reached down and shook what he thought was the assassin's leg. Zevran groaned a hand slipping out from the covers to swat the offending appendage away.

"You left me a note. I would have known regardless." Fenris pointed out. Zevran sighed deciding to forgo sleep as he sat up, glaring at the lyrium elf with bloodshot eyes.

"I was planning on throwing it out once I got back. I thought it would be best to have it in case I decided to linger. I apologize, next time I'll wake you to come with me next time." Zevran said looking as if he might faint any minute from exhaustion. Fenris was brimming with questions, but he knew in this condition Zevran probably wasn't using all his mental faculties. With a sigh he waved his hand in dismissal rising to find a vase for the flowers.

"Go to sleep, Zev." Fenris said. Zevran closed his eyes and lay back down fast asleep before his head hit the pillow.

…

Zevran was fighting Darkspawn in the Deep Roads. Whenever one came to close he cut it down with ease with a flick of his daggers. He was carving a path through them trying to find a certain sapphire eyed mage. He heard Howl calling his name not too far off, but he couldn't pinpoint the sound. Whenever he brought down a beast three more took its place. It was beginning to become crowded in the Deep Roads as he tried to make his way towards the voice.

A clawed hand fell on his shoulder spinning him around. It was a Blight Bear, towering over him as it pushed its muzzle into his face. The rank stench of rotting meat washed over his face as the beast began to talk. Zevran could see all the way down its gullet as the jaws moved wondering distantly if the bear meant to bite off his head.

"Zevran." The beast said in the achingly familiar voice of Howl. Zevran felt tears spring to his eyes as he reached up to touch the muzzle, ignoring the pain from the spikes even as blood began to run down his arm, soaking his armor.

"What have you done, my Warden?" Zevran said his voice choked with sobs even as the jaws opened to swallow him whole.

"ZEVRAN! Zev, wake up!" Fenris yelled shaking the elf. Zevran woke with a start looking up at his captor with a confused expression. For a moment he was lost frantically wondering how to defeat the Darkspawn. Then as he woke up he realized what he had taken for claws were as a matter of fact Fenris's metal gauntlets. He stared at him speechless even as the warrior knelt reached up putting the back of his hand that didn't have the metal gloves on against Zevran's forehead.

"You're burning up. I'll get Anders, he's just downstairs." Fenris said moving to leave. Zevran's hand shot out digging into Fenris's wrist.

"Don't leave. Please, stay here." Zevran begged. Fenris glanced down at the elf and saw the desperate expression on the assassin's face. Zevran looked vulnerable in the huge bed his eyes wide with panic as if Fenris were abandoning him. He reached down and covered the shivering hand with his own steady one. He waited until the blond elf's breathing slowed and his heartbeat returned to its steady rhythm. After a few minutes Zevran pushed himself up to lean his back against the headboard even though he worked his fingers into Fenris's armor clutching him desperately.

"Are you alright? You started screaming when I was about to leave. I thought someone had assaulted you and I burst in with my sword." Fenris said using the edge of the bed to remove his remaining gauntlet. Zevran glanced at the door and was surprised to see it hanging off its hinges, the lock clearly destroyed from the door being kicked in. When he glanced back down at the lyrium elf he noticed the great sword lying on the floor.

"I apologize, my dear Fenris. I dreamt I was in the Deep Roads fighting Darkspawn and one of them was about to decapitate me. So yes, I do believe you have saved me once again." Zevran said with a hollow laugh. Fenris scowled at the smaller elf as he stood up with Zevran still grabbing at him. He reached up and gently removed the hand, holding it in his own as he gazed down at him. Zevran was still looking at him silently asking him to stay. Fenris sighed turning his head towards the open door.

"ANDERS! HAWKE! GET YOUR ASSES UP HERE!" Fenris yelled in the general direction of the two mages. They hadn't heard Zevran scream and they had given him identical looks as if he had gone crazy as he stormed up the stairs tattoos shimmering to life when he burst in. He heard the slap of boots on stone as the two mages came up slightly breathless. Hawke's eyes immediately locked on the dark hand covering the tanned one but he said nothing.

"Anders, I need your help." Fenris said calmly motioning to the healer.

"Ooooooooooh, you're in _trouble._" Hawke said his eyes shining with glee as a smirk spread across his face. Anders glared at him as he came over to the bed peering down at Zevran.

"What's wrong? Is he sick again?" Anders asked bending over the assassin. Fenris extracted his hand from Zevran's and stepped back to give the healer room. Zevran leered at him from the bed but didn't make any move to go after him.

"He has a fever and he woke up screaming. Do you have anything that can help him sleep without dreaming?" Fenris asked glancing at the blond elf. Zevran had turned his head away tilting his head so Anders could feel his forehead and take his pulse by pressing two fingers to his neck.

"He's a bit warm, but I don't think it's from being sick. It could be the changing weather and his body isn't adjusting well due to the blood loss. I have a sedative he can take for the nightmares. As for the fever just leaves it alone for now, if it still persists tomorrow than I'll perform a restoration." Anders said straightening up from the bedside. Hawke watched his partner with a mixture of pride and love Fenris found himself longing for. While he disapproved of the possessed mage he had to give Hawke credit for caring for the other. And he never mentioned it he was secretly glad Anders was around to keep the mischievous well intentioned Champion under control.

"Fenris, why don't we just leave Zevran and Anders at my estate? Zevran might suffer a relapse from all the excitement. I sound just a like a healer, _relapse._ Aren't I smart?" Hawke said smirking at the elf. Fenris sighed massaging his temples which just drew a laugh from the mage. Anders, on the other hand whipped his head around glaring at his partner.

"What? You can't just leave me behind! You kept saying how important that, that _thing_ was you had to do." Anders argued waving his hands as if he were about to curse the other mage. Fenris wondered if he joined the Qun if he would be allowed to sew both their mouths shut. At least then he would get some peace and quiet.

"Maybe not, but I can certainly make sure you stay at home by chaining you to the bed." Hawke threatened with an evil grin. Anders's face turned bright red as he stared at his partner in mute horror his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You-you-Andraste's flaming ass, Hawke! Is your mind always in the gutter? I swear, you only keep me around for the sex." Anders snapped the veins standing out in his throat. A smirk was beginning to cross Zevran's face as he watched the pair. Fenris had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from grinning.

"Your ass will be flaming once Fenris and I are done with it. Right, Fenris? A nice crisp, sleek Anders sandwich?" Hawke said coming around and throwing his arm around the dark elf's shoulders. Fenris coughed the image in his head not a pretty one but…enticing. Dear Maker, he was turning into Zevran.

"My, I did not know the Champion had such tastes. Perhaps I could give you some advice in the practice of chains? Perhaps I could join?" Zevran pitched in finally. Anders looked around at the group suddenly realizing he was outnumbered. Fenris couldn't help it he leaned forward imagining his eyes darkening with desire as his voice descended to a low sultry rumble.

"I go to bed every night frustrated with my unquenched thirst for revenge. Perhaps I'll take it out on your body, when you're not looking over your shoulder." Fenris said stepping close enough so his breath fell across the mage's face. Anders gulped and tried to take a step back nearly tripping over one of Zevran's dirty shirts. Fenris smirked cruelly nodding to his comrade in arms.

"What say you, Hawke? On the table now or we wait until we can get him to your bed?" Fenris asked giving Anders a sidelong glance.

"Oh, I don't know. I sort of want him now. Got any chains? Maybe rope?" Hawke inquired coming up next to him to peer at the other mage his eyes saying he was deciding what positions to put his lover in.

"I have rope." Fenris said moving as if he really meant to go get it. Anders let out a cry turning around and practically flinging himself down the stairs.

"You're all a bunch of freaks! Stay away from me!" Anders yelled over his shoulder as he flew down the stairs. Hawke and Fenris waited for a moment than they glanced at each other, bursting out laughing together. Zevran watched them with amusement and longing. He missed his own companions from that long ago time even though they had all gone their separate ways. If at least Howl had remained alive, he would have been happy.

"That was fun. I'm telling Varric about this he's going to piss his pants when he hears it. We should totally do that again." Hawke said excitedly as Fenris went back to Zevran to help him out of bed. The assassin waved him away retrieving his boots to put on so he could follow them.

"I may not like Anders, but I do admit that gave me a certain satisfaction. At least now he'll be quiet unless we mention what transpired here." Fenris said waiting for Zevran to get ready. Hawke smiled going to the door so he could join the other mage downstairs.

"Watch, he's going to kick my ass when I go down there. Watch my back, Fenris?" Hawke asked pausing at the top of the steps. Fenris raised a brow shaking his head in the negative.

"Sorry, Hawke. He's your wife so you're on your own." Fenris replied. Hawke sighed dramatically as he turned around and descended down the steps. Zevran appeared near Fenris's elbow startling the dark elf. He hadn't even heard the assassin move when he came towards him.

"What you have now, you should cherish it." Zevran advised his benefactor with a nod to the Champion's retreating back. Fenris's forehead wrinkled as he thought about what he was saying. When he made to reply Zevran shook his head going down the stairs carefully one at a time.

Confused, Fenris followed after him remembering to grab his metal gauntlets and sword before going down. As he tugged the gloves on he rolled the words around in his mind trying to gauge their meaning. He had seen a nostalgic look cross Zevran's face before it went back to being neutral. He could feel the sadness radiating from the other as if it were sun shining upon his skin. Fenris wondered if it had to do with the "anniversary" the blond had mentioned.

Without meaning to Fenris glanced at the table where the spray of flowers set in the middle of the table. He had thought they would look out of place in such a dreary place but the color seemed to make the room lighter. Fenris had found a simple glass vase to place them in which he had filled with water to allow the flowers to thrive for a couple of days. As he gazed at them it suddenly occurred to him Zevran could have easily left that morning. He said he had woken up before he had and gone down to the docks.

Fenris reached out and brushed his gauntlet along one of the soft petals. The head of the flower bobbed when he pulled his hand back. Such beauty only blooming for so short a time. Deep in his heart, behind the darkness he harbored to unleash upon Danarius had been planted a tiny seed. As he descended the stairs trailing after the broken hearted assassin in front of him Fenris prayed the seed would grow and bloom in the darkness. Would survive long enough to spread its leaves and reach for the light he knew to be his soul.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Fenris is beginning to fall for our beloved assassin without meaning to. A reviewer once said they imagined the kindness Fenris showed in saving Zevran to be buried deep in him. Typing this and watching a lot of youtube videos of the lyrium elf, I have to agree. Bioware did a really good job of layering the characters and presenting them as people with regrets, love, hate, and able to still laugh. _


	25. Poem

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _When you get home today, or if you're at home already, give your mom, brother, father, sister, grandma, or grandpa a hug today and tell them you love them. _

**DA ORIGINS**

"Leave me like that again, and I'm heading straight back to Antiva!" Zevran yelled at the azure eyed mage. Howl stared at him in shock from the book open in his lap. They were in their room at the Gnawed Noble Tavern and Howl had wanted to relax by reading a novel given to him by the Earl.

"Why? I got out just fine, didn't I? I'm not a child, Zev! I can look out for myself." Howl protested glaring back at the Antivan. Zevran threw his hands up as he turned his back to the mage yanking his daggers off his back as he laid them down to remove his armor.

"What you did was foolish. Even a raw recruit can tell you if it's an obvious trap _don't walk into it_." Zevran snapped as he began to undo his straps. He heard a rustle of covers as Howl got up from the bed and came over to him. When slim fingers rested against his neck to help Zevran jerked away still yanking at the strap. Why wouldn't the bloody thing come off?

"Zev, come on. I'm sorry, but I came out okay in the end. Next time I won't go in without backup, I promise." Howl said trying to help him again. Zevran glared over his shoulder at the mage brushing his hands away. This time the mage sighed as he shrugged his shoulders giving the assassin his space.

"That's not the point, Howl." Zevran growled as he gave up on his chest plate and sat down to work on his leggings.

"Then what is the point? Because now you're just making me confused. Will you stop being stubborn and let me help you? You always have trouble with this one." Howl said lightly touching the trouble strap. Zevran glared daggers at him daring Howl to do it again.

"Here I thought you were the smart one. The point is you _left_ me there. I didn't hear anything for the longest time, and I couldn't leave since something might have _happened _to you." Zevran snarled in response as he yanked off his boots. He gave a sigh as he stretched his feet. They were almost worn out he would have to get new pair soon.

"Oh." Howl said giving his lover a quizzical look. Zevran shook his head as he moved to taking off his next boot. He tugged at his leather breastplate to no avail and wondered if he shouldn't invest in new armor. Again.

"You're becoming reckless and arrogant, my dear Warden. I worry when you aren't by my side." Zevran said tiredly as he tossed the other boot to its neighbor. He set his leggings beside his daggers beginning to struggle with the strap. When he saw the mage watching with an air of amusement he scowled causing Howl to smile as he came closer to help again.

"Like you're one to talk! You're _waaaaayyyyyyy_ more arrogant and cocky than I'll ever be. Every time you have a chance you show-off. Damn, what did you do to this thing? Hang on." Howl said giving a final tug on the strap. Zevran waited patiently legs crossed picking up the novel to see what it was. It's was Howl's journal, and it seemed he had been composing a poem.

Howl let out a low growl, hitting his lover's shoulder as he got up from the bed. Curious, Zevran opened the journal to a marked page. Elegant handwriting graced the pages a few lines written before being crossed out. On the other side appeared to be the finished product itself. Howl retrieved one of his daggers intending to use it cut the straps as Zevran repeated the words on the page.

"_The symphony I see in thee. It whispers songs to me._" Zevran read aloud amused at the familiar lines. Howl spun around, dagger in hand a look of horror on his face when he saw his lover with his journal. With lightning speed Howl snatched the journal from the assassin snapping it shut and clutching it to his chest. The bright flush gracing Howl's cheeks Zevran knew he had found something naughty.

"You like it, do you? I found the poem amusing at the time, but I figured you would like it. What other dirty little secrets are you hiding, my dear Warden?" Zevran asked turning up the charm as he leaned forward. Howl gave him a sharp glare setting the journal gingerly on the table behind him raising the dagger in defense.

"One more move and I'll stab you." Howl threatened causing the assassin to laugh. Howl glared coming over and shoving his partner back onto the bed.

"Oh please, do not hurt me Grey Warden! I promise to swear an oath to you if only you spare my life!" Zevran mocked hands clasped in front of him in submission. Howl rolled his eyes crawling onto the bed with him yanking him up by his armor.

"No, I take being reckless back. You're cocky is what you are. In more ways than one too, you stupid blond." Howl said beginning to saw at the strap with the dagger. Zevran held still his back rigid as the mage hacked at the stubborn leather. Best to not piss off his lover when he had a potential murder weapon in his hand.

A few quiet minutes passed with Howl trying to cut Zevran free of his armor. As he worked he had to angle the blade to get at the rest of it. Zevran shifted uncomfortably feeling the dagger poke him between the shoulder blades every few seconds. Perhaps it would have been a wise idea to show Howl _how_ to hold a weapon in his hand.

"Howl, I beg you do be careful. I do not wish to be killed today." Zevran advised him worried his life might end by accident.

"Well, if you hold still I'd get done faster." Howl said his tone annoyed as he began yanking at the armor in a way that alarmed the assassin.

"Howl, do be-OW! Ouch! HOWL!" Zevran yelled when he felt the tip of the dagger jab into his skin. With a final tug the armor came loose and Howl's face had turned pale when he pulled the dagger back to see a glint of red on it.

"Oh Zevy, I'm so sorry! Take your shirt off let me see." Howl said worriedly. The mage had discarded his own robes some time ago in only his black breeches and tunic. Zevran removed his undershirt tossing it to the side as he felt cool fingers touch his back. He glanced at the mirror and was mildly surprised to see him and Howl pictured perfectly in the reflective surface. Zevran could see the mage with his bent head as he studied the wound. Yep, he had been stabbed right between the shoulders.

"You wound me, my Warden. You no longer find me worthy to share your bed?" Zevran asked gazing the mirror. He saw Howl scowl in the reflection as he studied the wound.

"Shut up. It's shallow I doubt it'll scar. I just need to clean up the blood." Howl said raising his head. He scampered off the covers and retrieved a damp rag from the basin. Howl scrambled back onto the bed and Zevran felt cold water dripping down his back as his lover wiped away the blood. It really had been nothing more than a nick and had taken him by surprise rather than scared him.

"Why did you write down that poem I told you? It was quite some time ago and no great scholarly work. I'm sure I could write something a bit more suited to your tastes my dear Warden." Zevran chided him. In the mirror he saw Howl ducking his head as he dabbed at the wound despite the bleeding had already stopped.

"Compose, Zev. You can _compose_ a poem more suited to my tastes." Howl corrected finally setting the rag to the side. Zevran raised a brow glancing at the mage over his shoulder.

"Correcting me now are you, Owl? Fine, I shall _compose _for you an art of literature." Zevran said. Howl let out a heavy sigh wrapping his arms around Zevran's neck and nuzzling into his back.

"Don't bother, I don't think written words are your calling. Besides, the one in my journal is a different version of the poem. I…added a second verse to the one you told me." Howl said his voice muffled by burying his face into the small of Zevran's back. Fascinated, Zevran reached back and lightly pinched the tip of Howl's ear in punishment.

"Oh? You did not strike me as a poet. Read it to me, I wish to hear this rare work of art." Zevran demanded glancing at the mage. Howl's blush deepened as he averted his eyes idly fiddling with Zevran's braid.

"No. It's not….you'll laugh at me. I'll read it to you some other time. It's personal, anyway." Howl said pulling away from the assassin. This piqued Zevran's interest even more since Howl would often read aloud to him from one of his many books he had come across a particularly delicious part of the story. Zevran turned to face the mage reaching out to pinch the tip of the mage's ear again. Howl blushed waving the offending hand away.

"Why not read it to me now? I won't tease you. I listen most avidly when you tell me your stories. Come, read this one to me." Zevran insisted. Panic came over the mage's face as his head whipped back and forth looking for an escape. Seeing none he resorted to Plan B.

"Let's have sex. You like sex, right?" Howl said urgently pouncing on the assassin. Zevran laughed charmed but wrapped his arms around the jumpy mage pressing their foreheads together.

"Please? I'll read _Howl's Moving Castle_ aloud to you if you do." Zevran said. Howl stopped considering the bribe. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to burst out laughing as Howl weighed the cost.

"Alright, but you _cannot_ laugh! Or tease me, or use it against me, or mention it to _anyone_! Do you understand, Zevran Arainai?" Howl demanded urgently. Zevran nodded his head adopting a serious tone as he fisted his right hand and put it to his heart.

"I hereby swear on my life not to tell a soul unless you give me leave too." Zevran said solemnly. Howl blushed rolling his eyes as he got up off the bed retrieving the journal.

"Meaning you'll tell every soul in Ferelden, but whatever. You ready?" Howl asked flipping the pages to find the poem. Zevran nodded in reply sitting up, hands on his ankles as he waited. Howl coughed clearing his throat as he looked at his lone audience. A blush deepened his cheeks but when he started reading the words flowing off his tongue. His voice confident and strong as he read:

_The symphony I see in thee_

_It whispers songs to me_

_Songs of soft kisses upon my neck_

_Songs of secrets by my head_

_Songs of love in thy bed_

_As I sing to thee_

_Will thee marry me?_

Howl's voice quavered on the last part as he said _marry me_. He glanced up nervously at his lover the journal resting in his hands. Zevran stared his brain trying to catch up to what he just heard. Suddenly the moment felt awkward as he swallowed trying to think of what to say.

"When did you write this?" Zevran asked his voice quiet. Howl licked his lips glancing down at his journal as if it held the answer.

"I've been working on it for the past couple of weeks. I only came up with the finished product yesterday." Howl answered his voice shaky. Zevran sat there still staring at the mage in mute shock. Howl carefully closed the journal setting it back on the table as he watched his partner as if he expected him to explode.

"I wrote the poem for you, Zevran." Howl whispered as if raising his voice might shatter the assassin. Zevran was still unsure of how to respond his mouth suddenly gone dry.

"Why?" Zevran asked automatically and he mentally berated himself for saying such a stupid thing. In front of him Howl's face crumpled at the question but he answered regardless.

"Well, I know lover's sometimes give each other a token of their affection. I wanted to give you something special, meaningful. So I…I wrote you a poem." Howl said his eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears.

Zevran didn't consciously remember rising from the bed. On pure emotion he pulled Howl into his arms and gave him a deep kiss on the lips. His tongue delving deep into those warm depths as he tasted him. Sweet and fresh as new spring rain. When he pulled back Howl was breathless gazing up at him in surprise.

"Thank the Maker Howe sent me to assassinate you. How did I ever deserve you, Howl?" Zevran said pressing his forehead to Howl's their eyes gazing into each other. A surprised laugh escaped his Warden who wrapped his arms around his assassin's neck.

"I ask myself the same thing every day I wake up with you by my side."


	26. Moving Castle

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I think I may have forgotten to update a second time last week. Yes, I'm certain I did. A family emergency came up but thankfully it was a false alarm. Sorry this one is late in coming, but I've had a lot on my mind lately. _

"Thank you, Fenris." Hawke said once they were out of earshot from his estate. Fenris glanced at his friend in surprise wondering where this sudden surge of gratitude had come from.

"What do you want, Hawke?" Fenris asked automatically. Hawke smiled because he already knew what the warrior was thinking. He was about to have him do some incredibly difficult task all the while telling Fenris how strong and brilliant he thought he was. Flattery didn't work on Fenris, of course, but Hawke considered it his personal quest to compliment the lyrium elf.

"Nothing, actually. I'm just glad you're letting me borrow your assassin so Anders has someone else to play with." Hawke said casually as if they were discussing the weather. Fenris came up short when he heard the word _play _and spun around on the mage. Grabbed Hawke by the collar of his robe and yanking him towards him.

"_Hawke._" Fenris growled the name sounding like a curse. Hawke grimaced raising his empty palms in surrender.

"Not like that, you pervert! I mean to talk to! You know the others don't like Anders, especially you. I just thought it was nice he had someone else to hang out with other than me." Hawke choked because the collar on his robe was slowly being twisted by Fenris considering whether he should strangle the mage. Considering the consequences, Fenris let Hawke go shoving him back so he stumbled coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

"One of these days, Hawke, I'm just going to crush your heart from sheer impatience. You're just one of those mages asking for it." Fenris snapped annoyed. Hawke smiled rubbing at his throat being sure to keep a good distance between him and the warrior this time. Fenris snorted tossing back a lock of his hair.

"Do you think it's wise to allow Anders to talk to Zevran? I wonder what kind of mischief those two can get up to alone." Fenris said amused at the thought. Despite his good humor Hawke's face turned serious as he replied.

"Anders hasn't been happy these last couple of months with me. We argue, he constantly accuses me of not loving him or supporting him…I'm worried he might leave me. He always wants to be alone to work on those manifestos of his for mage freedom. I'm scared, Fenris. What if I'm not good enough for Anders anymore?" Hawke asked glancing at the elf. Fenris gave his comrade a blank look completely taken off guard. He coughed buying time to think of a good answer.

"I'm not exactly the person to be asking for relationship advice. Anders is being selfish, Hawke. If anything he's not good enough for you. He should be grateful for everything you've done for him and thank you for it." Fenris answered awkwardly adjusting his gauntlets to keep from looking his friend in the eye. Hawke sighed shaking his head as they walked passed through the entrance into Hightown towards the Hanged Man.

"I love him, though. I just…well, I thought maybe if he could make a friend it might help. I can't always be with him and I'm scared to take him along with me. I'm scared he'll get hurt." Hawke admitted much to the elf's shock. This wasn't what he had pictured when he had left with the mage.

"Things happen for a reason, Hawke. We can only keep those we care about close and protect them best we can." Fenris said the words sounding strange on his tongue. He heart fluttered as he thought of his sister coming to visit him. She would be staying at the Hanged Man when she visited, but what if she wished to come down to the mansion? He would have to clean, cook, and entertain her. Not to mention to find a place for Zevran to stay though he doubted the roof was an option.

"Do you like Zevran? You're pretty sweet on him from what I've seen." Hawke asked slyly after a while of walking. They were right outside of Lowtown by now and Fenris narrowed his eyes at the question.

"Why do you and everyone else call him 'my assassin'? He's not mine! We're simply fulfilling a deal we made with each other." Fenris snapped but he caught the lecherous grin on the mage's face. He growled bristling with sudden anger at being teased.

"You don't deny it. No offense, but it's obvious you like him. You're always looking out for him, fetching him things, asking him if he needs anything. I'm happy for you, Fenris. I don't know Zevran that well but he seems to like you too. He's relaxed when you're around. Whenever we hang out he always makes a point of sitting right next to you and no one else. Even Aveline said something about it to Donnic and he thinks it's cute." Hawke replied and by his tone this was old news. Fenris felt his blood turn to ice as he stopped in the middle of the street, turning to the confused mage.

"Come here, Hawke. Shake my hand." Fenris threatened his tattoos beginning to glow as he stretched out his hand.

…Zevran was impressed by the splendor the Champion of Kirkwall lived in. He ran his fingers over the velvet curtains admiring the finesse of it before letting them slide through his fingers. It was late, and Anders had informed him the servants had already gone to bed. Right now they were up in Hawke's bedroom, Zevran casually admiring the richness of the mansion compared to Fenris's home. Anders lingered a few yards away watching him with open fascination as the elf slowly wandered around the room.

"So….Antiva." Anders said hesitantly unsure of how to start a conversation. Zevran smirked to himself turning around to face the mage adopting an innocent expression as he gazed at him.

"Full of Antivans?" Zevran said right back. Anders scowled unsure of what else to say. He often checked on his patients and kept an open friendship with them. However, Zevran's situation was a unique case.

"Um, well…I've heard it. Do you like mages?" Anders decided to ask after a moment's consideration. Better to be blunt and see if that beast Fenris had got him to hate mages with a passion. Zevran crossed his arms tapping his chin in thought gazing at the ceiling as if the Maker would descend upon them any minute.

"Do I like mages? Depends on the mage, my dear Anders." Zevran answered vaguely examining the bed. The sheets were fresh, he could smell the soap from them. Along with a hint of lavender that had been sprinkled in to improve the scent. He had heard of Hawke and this mage, and he wondered to what misadventures the two got to in that bed.

"Can you elaborate? What do you mean 'it depends on the mage'? Either you like them or you don't." Anders pointed out his cheeks beginning to flush. He knew Hawke was avoiding him, they had had a nasty quarrel only two hours earlier about him continuing to work with the former slave. Anders was beginning to suspect there might be something else going on between the two but he wasn't sure. He had wanted to come along and watch them carefully for any signs of a love affair going on.

"It's not a matter of like or dislike, my friend. Simply it depends on the individual mage themselves. I have met a few mages whom I liked, they were pleasant people. Others who thought to steal my blood for magic? Well, they ended up with a knife in their back." Zevran answered with a shrug. Anders blinked staring at the elf in complete disbelief. Zevran sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"To answer your question, I do not care if a person is a mage or not. What difference does it make to me if an individual is more sensitive to the Fade then I? I have met many people in my travels who are displeased with the Circle. Should mages be free? Yes, I believe they do. Should they take extra caution and be taught the dangers of demons and abomination? Of course, it is a true fact mages are susceptible to such things. That does not excuse, however, them being locked up and torn from the arms of their mothers." Zevran stated remembering a certain blue eyed elven mage. Howl had confided in him he had been displeased in being in the Circle, the feeling of being locked in a cage. Yet, Howl had told him it really hadn't been all bad. Him and Jowan had gotten up to all sorts of mischief while in the Circle.

"You really don't care if a person is a mage or not?" Anders asked a bit of awe in his voice. He had never met anyone who stated bluntly they didn't care. Zevran glanced at him and shrugged in reply.

"I am not indifferent. I wish for the Tevinter  
>Imperium to be torn down and the slave's released. However, hating a person for the way they are born is just as much as an injustice as if you were to declare me inferior to you simply because of I am an elf." Zevran said motioning to his pointed ears. Anders nodded his head excited and yet hesitant to continue the conversation. He stood up beginning to pace to help him think as he continued.<p>

"Right, right! I like that. 'An individual only more sensitive to the Fade than I.' Would you mind if I used that in my latest manifesto? It's quite good, I think it might help for others to see mages in a new light." Anders asked excitedly already planning the argument in his head. Zevran smirked at the mage's happy demeanor shrugging his shoulders in answer.

"Do with it as you wish. I only said it, after all." Zevran said but Anders had already gone over to his desk. Hawke had set him up for him when he had first moved in so he could have his own space. Grabbing a quill and a spare piece of parchment he began to feverishly record his thoughts as they came to him. Completely forgetting for a few minutes he was in the same room with a former Antivan Crow.

As the mage wrote Zevran went to peer out the window. It was dark, and he spotted no one in the street. It was a clear night with a full moon in the sky. He had watched Fenris leave with Hawke over an hour ago. Much as he appreciated being able to lounge around in such finery he found he was already missing the rotting estate. From he was he could just barely make out the roof of the mansion. Zevran sighed pushing away from the window to peer over Anders's shoulder. The mage had filled out a full page by now setting the piece aside as he continued to scribble. Having a sudden inspiration to gain his revenge on Hawke Zevran tugged on the corner of the mage's robe.

"You know if you really want to make a point, why not mention how the Chantry uses blood magic?" Zevran asked as if this were a well-known fact. As he had predicted Anders paused in his musings slowly raising his head from his parchment to gaze at the golden haired elf. Zevran grinned back at him knowing he had just crossed a line. Dear Maker, it felt good to be getting back at Hawke.

"The Chantry uses blood magic? How?" Anders asked slightly breathless as he straightened up from his writing. He hadn't even bothered to pull a chair up to sit down in as he conducted his next manifesto.

"When a mage enters into the Circle, the Chantry takes a vile of their blood called a phylactery, yes? Blood Mages do the exact same thing to track down their enemies." Zevran said offhandedly as if this were a well-known fact. Actually, as he thought about it was. Anders on the other hand seem to be in euphoria as he fell heavily into his chair staring at the elf as if he wished to worship him.

"Where do you come with these ideas? I never even thought about it that way! You're right, the Chantry does use forbidden magic. You wouldn't happen to be a mage, would you?" Anders asked excitedly holding his breath. Zevran shook his head in the negative his eyes flickering back to the window. He secretly wished he could have followed them to wherever Fenris and Hawke had been headed.

"I am no mage, Anders. A mage I _did_ know happened to be quite vigilant when it came to such things. He never shared his thoughts with anyone when it came to such things. One day he pointed out this fact to me and I felt quite foolish for never noticing it before. He always did have a knack for small details." Zevran said wistfully glancing at the mage again. Anders swallowed his mouth suddenly dry as he considered these ideas presented before him. Already in his mind he could see the controversy these ideas would bring if they found their way onto the desks of certain political individuals.

"Thank you, Zevran. You have no idea how much this helps the mage freedom cause." Anders said a happy smile crossing his face. Once he was done he would practice presenting these ideas to Hawke to find the best angle.

Zevran nodded sedately his mind sinking back into his own thoughts. Anders continued to work though his writings weren't as feverish as before. Now he proceeded calmly in the labyrinth of his mind working out how best to say the argument. As he worked his eyes kept trailing back to the elf seated on the divan gazing out the window. He had not told Hawke, had not mentioned it to the others. Anders knew Isabela must know even though she did not think to share this knowledge with the group. Varric to seemed hesitant stealing glances at the elf as if measuring the reaction if it became known.

Anders had recognized the name, but couldn't recall where. On a whim he had gone to one of his many books and looked up a name. He had frozen when he suddenly remembered his face pale as he silently closed the book. They quite literally had a legend walking among them and Hawke had tried to _kill_ him. He'd had to sit down to catch his breath mentally berating himself to not say a single damn word. Not to mention it to Fenris who may just crush the heart of the other elf.

_Howl Arainai, Hero of Ferelden _

_Grey Warden and Friend_

_Loving partner to Zevran Arainai_

_May he find his moving castle._

The inscription had been printed in the book recounting the tails of the great feats by Grey Wardens. During his time with Zevran he had been told the elven mage had adopted the last name as his own. Howl didn't have a last name to speak of, nowhere to place him or set in his roots. So, he had taken on the name of the person he loved the most. Forever binding them to each other even if they had not yet been married. There had often been jokes if the Chantry would allow such a marriage, but Anders liked to think they would have. Howl had defeated the Archdemon and would have been given everything he wanted and desired. The last part of the inscription, Anders knew, was a secret shared between him and his old companions. People had asked and inquired about what it could mean but none had come forward. There had been a few outrageous claims but after such a long time King Alistair had finally given them a hint.

"It's really simple, actually. Think of it like a riddle. When you know the answer you smack your forehead and say 'duh!' Why didn't I see that before?" King Alistair had said with a hint of amusement in his voice. He said if anyone could figure it out he would grant them five hundred sovereigns along with an estate. So, of course, treasure hunters were delving deep into ancient documents looking over inscriptions. Rearranging the words comparing them with each other as if they were a code. Anders knew somewhere in Ferelden the king sat on his throne laughing at all of them trying to figure it out.

A few hours passed with him working and Zevran getting up now and again to walk around the room. At one point the assassin went downstairs to pour himself a goblet of wine. Finally, the mage set his quill down massaging his hand with a wince. He was turning into an old man his back felt cramped from hunching over his desk. Anders cracked his neck letting out a small moan of relief as the tension melted away. He managed to stand up stomping his feet to wake them up. He had completely forgotten they had fallen asleep as he gripped the arm of his chair in order not to lose his balance. Zevran stared at him as if he were crazy raising an eyebrow as the mage continued stomping.

"I take you're practicing a dance? Or is this some new ritual I'm not aware of?" Zevran asked receiving glare from the mage.

"Get on the bed." Anders snapped letting go of the chair. He felt the tingling sensation as his feet came back to life stretching out his arms in front of him. He heard a few satisfying cracks as he flexed them mentally berating himself for forcing his body beyond its limits again.

"Already? But I'm not even drunk yet!" Zevran protested even as he moved onto the huge piece of furniture. Anders blushed glaring at the elf who had a wicked grin on his face.

"I don't mean it like that! What is it with you and sex? I swear you and Hawke are exactly alike. Don't you guys ever think of anything else?" Anders complained going over to the elf. He made Zevran lay flat on his back as he bent over him to put his cheek against the elf's head. Zevran smirked though he refrained from teasing the mage as Anders took his temperature.

"You're not warm anymore, so that's good. Has Fenris been giving you the food I prescribed? You're still to pale by far." Anders said resting two fingers against the pulse of Zevran's neck.

"He does. Fenris leaves early each morning to purchase it fresh from the vendors. Preparation is another matter, but I get by." Zevran answered obediently as Anders removed his hand. He turned around and went back to his desk, writing something down before returning.

"Take off your shirt." Anders said. This time Zevran raised an inquisitive brow as he obliged removing the offending piece of cloth tossing it to the side. Anders saw the pale scar along the elf's side as Zevran sat on the edge of the bed grinning at him.

"Force me onto the bed and now you make me undress? You are an odd man, my magical friend. Why not remove your own clothes and join me?" Zevran teased as Anders got onto the bed with him. He had an odd instrument in his hand which he placed against the elf's chest. The other end of the instrument had been inserted into his ears.

"Shut up. Take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds. Good, now again…..again." Anders said moving a flat disc over Zevran's stomach, chest, and back. Now Zevran remembered it was a stethoscope. A wondrous device which allowed one to hear the workings of the inner body. After a few minutes of breathing deeply Anders retrieved the shirt handing it back to the elf as he took of the stethoscope. Carefully curling it up and placing it back on the desk.

"Your heart appears to be recovering just fine. It's a lot stronger than it was when you first came to me. How do you feel most days? Is your strength coming back?" Anders asked as Zevran pulled the shirt back on. His patient glanced at him his eyes traveling up and down the mage's body smirking before he turned his head away.

"I tire easily, like you said I would for a while. I am…a bit stronger, yes. But I can't do as much as I used too. I _know_ I should be able to do something and yet I am unable to." Zevran answered shrugging his shoulders. Anders nodded comparing notes in his head as he memorized everything the elf said. He wrote down everything for his patients just in case but usually he never referred back to them.

"You've lost a bit of weight, too. I'm going to start having Orana send over pastries for you to eat. We don't need you turning into a skeleton under my care." Anders said as he tried to think of other ways to improve the elf's health. Downstairs he heard the door open and close voices rising up the quiet stairwell. Hawke and Fenris were back and seemed to be discussing their latest conquest.

"I thank you, my friend. I look forward to the day I have to roll in order to get to my destination." Zevran said with a slight bow to the healing spell caster. Anders looked as if he wanted to say something more but Hawke appeared right then at the top stairs. He raised an eyebrow at his partner nodding to the shirtless elf on the bed.

"If you're going to cheat, don't you think it should be in a place less obvious? Say, I don't know, my study? Scattering quills and ink everywhere as you-" Hawke was abruptly cut off by the iron grip on his shoulder. Fenris glared at the mage giving his friend's shoulder another painful squeeze before moving past him towards Zevran. The blond haired elf had already retrieved his shirt and was pulling it on over his head.

"I take it you two had fun while we were gone?" Fenris asked suspicious as Zevran retrieved his cloak. His prisoner gave him a knowing smirk stepping closer so that their noses were almost touching.

"Not as much fun if you had been here, I assure you. Alas, I must return to my confinement Anders. I hope to someday see you as a free man if my keeper allows it."

"Just walk out the damn door."

"Fine, fine, be heartless my dear Fenris. See if I don't pay you back for this later." Zevran teased as the two elves descended the stairs and left. Anders heard the lock click behind the pair of elves as they left. Silence descended upon Hawke and Anders like a thick cloud. The Champion sighed, placing his staff against the wall before he began to remove his robes. Anders sat on the edge of the bed watching Hawke with disinterest. Matters had been tense between them ever since Zevran had been rescued.

"So, where did you two go this time?" Anders asked once his partner had slipped on his Orlesian silk robe and was in the process of going to bed. Hawke glanced at him in surprise raising an eyebrow in response.

"Anders, there's nothing going between me and Fenris. I swear on my mother's grave there isn't! Why don't you believe me?" Hawke replied but he was too tired for his answer to have any real heat behind it. They had been back and forth over the matter for quite some time.

"You left me here and while you two went to Andraste knows where. Be honest with me, Hawke. I've seen the way you two look at each other." Anders threatened. This time Hawke's eyes narrowed as he stood up turning to face his partner.

"We're just friends, Anders. Varric and Aveline we're with us as well in case you want to know. I'm going to bed. Good night." Hawke snapped ripping back the covers. Anders glared wanting to reach out and shake his lover's shoulder.

After a moment Anders made up his mind. Grabbing his robes and beginning to pull them on. Hawke kept his back turned to him as he dressed hurriedly searching for the key to the cellar. He didn't want murderers sneaking into the mansion.

"I'm going to spend the night in Darktown. If Zevran needs me tell him to just to send a messenger." Anders said before he left.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Problems in paradise for our Champion! I bet you're all wondering how this is supposed to play out for Zevran in Fenris. Well, I shall never tell! MUHAHHAHAHAHAHHA! Well, at least not for a couple chapters, anyway._


	27. Wolf

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Oi, sorry it's taken so long to update. Thankfully I get internet access at my house on Sunday. Hurray! I know I have been focusing on Howl at lot. I do apologize, but I am writing to a sequel to this fic which will have a LOT more Fenris and Zevran in it. Howl will be dead and long gone so you need not worry! Anyway, back to you're two favorite elves._

**DA ORIGINS**

"What in the name of the Maker has happened to your hair? Honey, come here and let me fix that for you. Such thick, gorgeous locks and you just keep in a braid! A waist of the Maker's gift, I say." Palen complained when Howl first walked into The Pearl. Zevran refrained from rolling his eyes as the whore clucked his tongue over the small mage. It was Palen's day off and he had invited the couple to come visit him. At the moment the brothel was empty a few of the whores having wandered out to chat with each other as they waited for patrons.

"Ah, but my friend imagine running your fingers through these same, wavy locks. I have the pleasure to do so every night." Zevran said slipping an arm around Howl's waist from behind. His mage yelped in surprise as he planted a kiss on the back of his mage's neck. Nipping the tender skin as an afterthought as he rested his chin on top of Howl's head. Palen's eyes widened considerably before a wicked grin crossed his face.

"I see you took my advice. Good for you two! Oh, but I do wish I could play with you. You're such a cute little elf boy! Let me get my brushes and creams, you're getting a new hairdo." Palen declared shooing them into a corner of the room before hurrying to his bedroom. Howl turned pale at the thought extracting himself from Zevran's grip as he touched his braid.

"My hair doesn't look that bad, does it?" Howl asked his partner. Zevran smirked pulling out a chair for Howl before going to sit down himself.

"Hm, no. I rather like it the way it is. Though you seem to fancy tying odd things in mine when I'm unaware of it." Zevran said reaching up to touch the small spray of feathers Howl had tied to the end of his main braid. Howl grinned shrugging his shoulders as he motioned for one of the serving girls to bring them drinks.

"You don't like them? Hawk feathers look nice in your hair! I like the way they fan out when you go to attack." Howl pointed out as he reached out with hesitant fingers underneath the table to touch Zevran's hand. Zevran raised an eyebrow squeezing the offered fingers before pulling away to rest both his hands on the table.

"I was wondering why I seemed to be the only one batting the back of my neck for mosquitoes." Zevran said in a bored tone causing the mage to chuckle in response. The serving girl brought their drinks over, wine for him while his mage got cider as always.

Zevran sipped his vintage wondering if he could charm the Mistress to tell him where she purchased it when he spotted her. She was in the farthest corner of the room, black boots propped up on the table as she drank. Flirting with a pretty young serving woman who couldn't have been older than fifteen. Gold jewelry decorated her neck and arms, proof of her exploits as a pirate. The young girl in front of her said something that made the pirate queen smile as she slid a silver piece across the table for her. Zevran watched with interest as the young girl curtsied quickly hurrying away.

"Howl, wait here a moment. I want to go see something." Zevran said standing up from the table. Howl gave him a quizzical look but nodded in response as he waited with growing dread for Palen to come back.

Zevran quickly crossed the room to the table his eyes focused on the woman. Her dark eyes rose up taking in the man coming towards her. Recognition flashed there along with a knowing smirk as she removed her boots from the table. Isabela winked at the assassin as he came up to her.

"Why, Zevran! Not a surprise I should find you here. I had begun to wonder if you died from your lifestyle within the Crows." Isabela teased him motioning him to sit down. Zevran smirked in response and settled for leaning on the chair. He didn't want to appear anxious especially since Howl was only a few tables down from where the pirate woman sat.

"Ah, my dear Isabela! Elegant as always, I see. Seems life on the seven seas has served you well, hasn't it? Stayed in the business then ever since your husband passed away?" Zevran teased knowing full well what had happened. They both knew, since Isabela had personally thanked him for several hours before he disappeared the next morning.

"Bastard, murdering and lovemaking before you went off to get your reward. I should kidnap you right now and give you to my men. They get frustrated when we're on the high seas. I'm sure they'd appreciated those pouty lips of yours." Isabela purred leaning forward on the table. Zevran smirked in reply his mind frantically racing as to what to say next. No doubt she would suggest sex if he stayed much longer.

"Zev, whose this?" Howl asked from behind him. Zevran visibly jumped he had been completely unaware the mage had snuck up on him. He managed to hide his guilt as he casually nodded to Isabela.

"Howl, I would like you to meet Isabela. She is a…former friend of mine." Zevran said unable to see anyway to get out of the situation. He had often talked of his former lovers to Howl but to suddenly have one of them here facing his mage drastically changed his viewpoint of the wisdom of his actions. Howl's eyes drilled holes into his partner as clearly he figured out who the woman in front was. Sensing something interesting about to happen, Isabela rose gracefully from her chair with a smile.

"Well Zev, since you're here-" Isabela began reaching out to flick back a lock of the assassin's hair. Before she could however Howl visibly shouldered Zevran out of the way, reaching out to instead to take the pirate's hand shaking it forcibly as he spoke.

"Just to be clear, my name is Howl. I'm Zevran's _mark_." Howl said his tone cold as he glared at the woman. Zevran stared at the mage in shock as Howl glowered at the woman.

_Zevran's mine, bitch, so back off._ Howl, apparently, didn't like meeting his partner's former lovers. Isabela raised a brow glancing at the assassin who was staring at the mage as if he had never seen him before.

"Oh, like that is it? I'm quite sorry Howl, I had no idea you were Zevran's new mark. Had sex with him yet? Talented, isn't he?" Isabela teased the mage. Howl didn't even blush as he pulled the pirate down his level, a wicked grin crossing his face as he answered.

"Yes, every night I let him pierce me. I threaten him with hellfire if he doesn't do a good job. So, if you don't mind, Zev and I have business to take care of." Howl said his voice low and seductive.

Zevran could only stare wondering if perhaps his lover had been possessed by a demon. Howl spun around, grasped his lover's hand, and literally dragged him towards Palen. The elven whore looked confused his arms filled with creams and brushes. Seeing the determined look on the mage's face he stepped to the side and allowed both to enter. Without ceremony Howl actually managed to _throw_ Zevran onto the first bed he came to. Before the assassin could come to his senses the mage was on top him, kissing him with enough force to bruise his lips.

"Don't think of her. Don't you dare." Howl growled biting the tender skin of Zevran's throat for emphasis. Zevran let out an involuntarily moan to his own astonishment as with practiced ease quick fingers began to remove his armor. Still in mild shock Zevran managed to raise himself up on his elbows staring down in fascination at the pissed off mage that only seconds ago had been shy of having his hair done.

"I suppose I shouldn't ask if I can join you, can I?" Palen asked in a bored tone. Two pairs of eyes glanced at him before Howl shrugged in response.

"Sorry, Palen. I'll pay you two sovereigns if you go shopping for a few hours." Howl suggested. Palen raised an eyebrow snatching the curtain and drawing it closed with a soft chuckle.

"You love birds have fun!" Palen shrieked with glee before he darted off.

…

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!" Howl screeched beating Zevran's chest with his fists. Around them the sheets were tangled and stained from their tumble in bed. Zevran smirked grasping both the mage's wrists and pinning him down. Even then Howl writhed underneath him trying to beat up his lover.

"Why? You're the one who brought me back here and told me to be quiet or else. I have to say, I'm proud you've taken matters into your own hands." Zevran purred watching with growing amusement as Howl continued to struggle. Seeing he wasn't winning, Howl turned his head and bit Zevran's wrist. Zevran let go with a yelp surprised rather than hurt from the bite. Howl sat up hair disheveled pointing in all directions as he glared at the assassin.

"It's all your fault! You were…I know you were." Howl accused him jabbing him in the chest. Zevran sighed leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. He allowed his mage to rant for a few more minutes being careful to keep a bored expression as this personal drama played out. Finally, Howl began to calm down when he realized his partner had not said a thing about any of his complaints.

"Are you quite done?" Zevran asked as if speaking to a misbehaved child. A blush began to creep up Howl's neck as he realized what he had been doing. Suddenly meek and shy again, he quietly crawled to his lover's side. Burying his face in Zevran's shoulder even though the assassin made no move to hold him.

"Sorry." Howl muttered muffled by his head in Zevran's shoulder. Zevran ignored him inspecting his nails for any blemishes. A pale blue eye peered at him long lashes kissing high cheekbones as it gazed at him.

"Zev? I'm done." Howl whispered. He was rewarded with strong arms wrapping around him, pulling him into a tanned chest their legs tangling together as Zevran situated the mage between his legs.

"I have to say, you took charge. Perhaps I should make you jealous more often?" Zevran teased flicking the tip of Howl's ear. Howl narrowed his eyes beginning to squirm uncomfortably at the thought.

"I didn't want to lose you again."

"Lose me? My dear Owl, where would I go?"

"I meant Taliesin."

Zevran froze when he heard the name. Howl was nervous desperately clutching at him as if he expected his lover to leave him. A part of the Antivan was angry, the other part guilty. The last person from his past to show up had ended up forcing him to act as if he were about to betray the mage. He stared down at Howl who gazed up at him scared, confused, and searching his face for any change. A sign the man he loved had decided to walk away from all of this. Zevran squeezed the small body in his arms bending his head over him so their noses touched.

"I…there is nothing I can say, Howl. Only I wished to protect you nothing more. All I know is how I feel about you. What would you have me do?"

"Hold me."

So he held him for a while longer. Ignoring the thumps and grunts coming from the other rooms around them. Eventually, both elves got up and put on their clothing. An apology to an excitable Palen who had spent the afternoon at his friend's house. Palen scolded the couple for not letting him watch instead sending him away just when things were getting interesting.

There was still plenty of daylight left, so Howl suggested they go down to the docks. Zevran tried to convince Howl otherwise, mentioning Isabela even but the mage was resolute. He wanted to see the water and see if he could catch a fish. Zevran doubted they would find any fish idly swimming about waiting for a knuckle headed young elf to capture them, but one never knew. So down they went to the docks, Howl staring in awe at all the different ships, boats, and men were going about loading and unloading various vessels.

"Hey Zev, look! That one is from Antiva!" Howl said excitedly pointing to a particularly rich ship. Zevran glanced at it and spotted the name _Queen of Antiva_ painted along the hull. At the moment its sails were rolled awaiting their day at sea. For the moment it seemed everything was quiet onboard and only a man or two appeared to be walking around on deck.

"Fascinating, I've heard of this ship. Perhaps one day she will take us to my home." Zevran said wistfully. Howl didn't appear to hear him walking along the dock to the pier looking back and forth.

"Do you think they will let me have a look around? I've never been on a ship before." Howl asked searching for someone who was in charge. Zevran glanced up at the deck where one of the crew had paused to peer over the side at them. He waved his hand to catch the man's attention. Flashing a silver coin in case he happened to be ignoring him. In matter of seconds the seamen had lowered a makeshift bridge from the ship to the pier. Howl paused waiting anxiously at the bottom with growing excitement at the man came down. Zevran came up placing himself between Howl and the water. He did not doubt the mage would try to go swimming in the water just to see if he could attract any sharks.

"Can I help you, serah? Perhaps you have some cargo onboard you wish to retrieve?" The seamen asked them politely. He was a plain man, clearly showing a paunch underneath a stained shirt from months at sea. His breath smelled of stale ale and he had rough stubble in desperate need of being shaved. Howl stared at the man fascinated as if he were a creature of legend suddenly made real.

"I have no such cargo I wish to obtain. My friend here would like a tour of your ship. You see, he has never been out of Ferelden before and we may be traveling very shortly overseas. I want him to become familiar with ships so he won't become alarmed when we set foot on one when the time comes for us to travel." Zevran explained adding another silver coin to the one in his hand. He noticed the seamen look doubtfully at the mage who was standing on tiptoe trying to see onto the deck. He calmly added another silver coin to the last two and this made the man smile.

"But of course! Anything for a fellow countrymen! Come, serah, right this way." The sailor said stepping to the side with a bow.

Howl eagerly bounded up the plank with cry of joy acting like a child. Zevran calmly followed after him slipping the coin into the man's hand as he walked by him.

"I would be quite glad if you answered any questions my companion may have. He is very curious, and enjoys gaining new knowledge on many subjects." Zevran said acting as if they were having a normal conversation.

The man had come up with him onto the deck. Howl was in the middle turning a full circle his eyes round circles as he took in the ship. He craned his head back next peering into the rigging as if he expected someone to drop down from above. At the moment they appeared to be the only ones onboard. The sailor nodded with a grin accepting another silver coin Zevran slipped to him as he strolled up to the mage.

"What's that basket on top?" Howl asked pointing upwards. The sailor strode over glancing up as well.

"The Crow's nest." The sailor answered. Howl looked at Zevran in alarm who only gave a mischief smirk in response.

"Are there, you know, _real _Crows in there? I don't think a ship out in the middle of the sea would need assassins, does it?" Howl asked uneasily. Surprised at the question the sailor glanced at Zevran who pretended to be studying his nails.

"So you know of the Antivan Crows, do you? Well, no, we don't keep assassins up there. It's used to keep a lookout for other ships or a lighthouse." The sailor explained. As Howl began rattling off other questions pointing at various things on deck.

Zevran watched as Howl slowly made his way around the ship. The sailor true to his word gave them a real tour. Giving a thorough explanation for each place they were in when asked a question. To the sailor's credit Zevran was surprised by the patience the man maintained. Even allowing Howl to step down into the cargo hold and explaining how most ships were owned by merchants selling their wares in other lands in order to make a profit. Even telling a short story of how once they had had to run off pirates.

"If you don't sail along the coast, how do you keep track of where you are in open water? Wouldn't you just end up floating around until the tide pushed you to Maker knows where?" Howl asked a few hours later. He was in slight awe now of the sailor since they had stepped on board. Zevran sighed wishing they could leave. Howl, however, hardly ever got to indulge in his curiosity. It also kept the spell caster's mind off of Isabela.

"We navigate by the stars. We have instruments we use for that to find our bearings out in open sea. If the winds die down we can be stranded for a few days out at sea, but it always picks back up." The sailor said waving his hand at the sky. As a matter of fact it was beginning to grow dark and they were in the bad part of Denerim. As if on cue a few stars had begun to twinkle into existence.

"Howl, we should be returning to the inn. I'm sure our guide has better things to do than talk to us all night." Zevran said amused to see Howl give him a pleading look.

"Please, just five more minutes?" Howl whined sounding like a child. Zevran sighed walking over and slipping an arm around the mage's waist.

"I can think of a couple of things we can do in five minutes." Zevran threatened his eyes glittering. Howl gulped beginning to blush as struggled to slip out of the assassin's grasp.

"You know what, yeah, we should get going. Thanks for the tour." Howl said breathless as Zevran led him across the deck and off the ship. He let his arm slip from around the mage's waist once they were a few yards away from the pier headed back into the weaving streets of Denerim. He kept a firm hold on Howl's wrist however to prevent him from wandering off. Zevran checked around each corner before coming out onto the street. By now lamps were beginning to be hung outside doorways indicating someone was home. He began to feel edgy being stuck out at night. More than once Zevran saw an unwelcome figure gaze hungrily at the pair as they passed. They should have brought Shigure along but Howl had left the hound back at the tavern.

"Zevran, are you okay?" Howl asked. Zevran stopped trying to get his bearings. He was familiar with Denerim during the day, but he hadn't realized how difficult it would be going back at night. Shortcuts they had taken to get to the brothel were no longer an option since they were submerged in complete darkness. Above them night had begun to fully descend upon them.

"No, I'm trying to think of what route to take back to the tavern. Perhaps we should head back to Palen's place. He may let us stay the night." Zevran said but he didn't know which way the Pearl was either. He hadn't passed it on his way and knew they may be lost.

"Why don't we head back to the docks? Remember, one of the elves in the alienage said there was a passage leading from there to the apartments? We can take that and be back at the inn in an hour, right?" Howl suggested pulling closer to the assassin. He had his staff with him but it would be off little use if they were suddenly ambushed. Zevran's brow wrinkled in thought as he tried to piece together a plan. If he were with a fellow Crow or warrior, he would have been able to easily slip onto the rooftops and travel that way. Instead, he was hindered by Howl who didn't know the first thing about stealth. Forget about him traveling by rooftop. He would probably slip off and break his legs on the cobblestones. Not to mention Zevran would have to do the fighting if they were ambushed.

"We can, but they close the gates of the alienage at night. Would you mind sleeping in the sewage for a night?" Zevran asked warily already heading back in the direction of the docks. He had spotted a group of dark figures having separated themselves from the shadows earlier. Heart pounding in his ears he rounded a corner, slipping into an alleyway and flattening himself against the wall Howl beside him.

"What is it?" Howl whispered in Zevran's ear. His glasses reflected the dim light of the lamps. Zevran kept his gaze focused on the street as he answered the mage's question barely raising his voice above the wind.

"I think were being followed. Go down more until I give the all clear."

He heard Howl say something else but he wasn't listening. Already Zevran edged out of the alleyway, daggers drawn as he peered from his hiding place. He saw a group of armed men now across the street, walking out cautiously as they spread out searching for their quarry.

Zevran slipped from the alleyway hugging the shadows as he watched the group. They appeared to be confused as to what direction they should head. After a minute or two of quiet arguing they went in the opposite direction. He trailed after them daggers at the ready in case one of them had a mind to turn back around. After they passed a few more streets Zevran decided to head back to Howl. These men were far enough away now not to pose a threat to them as long as they kept quiet.

As he was heading back Zevran heard an audible crack. His mind froze going into panic mode as he heard another crack. The group of men was too far away to hear it but it sounded like a thunder clap in the silent clearing. Then a sharp intake of breath that sounded almost like a scream before the pounding of feet. Alarmed, Zevran dropped all pretenses of stealth and charged straight towards the noise. He heard the slap of bare feet against stone as they seemed to follow Howl's fleeing footsteps. Heart pounding in his chest Zevran skidded to a halt desperately trying to pinpoint where the noise had come from.

He was deep in the alleyways now having blindly followed those footsteps he was now lost. A flash of blue and a sharp cry made the hairs on his arm stand on end. Zevran tightened his grip on the pommel of his daggers hands sweating in his gloves as he flew around the corner.

At first he didn't see him. He even momentarily wondered if he had been mistaken when saw the glint of Howl's glasses further down the alleyway. A lanky figure appeared to be bent over him talking in a low voice. Only a few feet away lay the broken remains of Howl's staff completely useless. Zevran came closer his mouth going dry as his eyes adjusted to make out the scene.

It appeared to be another elf, but it was hard to make out in the dim light cast by the lamps from the street. His skin was dark, that much Zevran could tell. Tall, too. Almost as tall Alistair he figured. This elf was holding a great sword in one hand sheathed in metal gauntlets. The other was buried in the collar of Howl's robes twisting the fabric pinning the mage against the wall. Howl's face was pale as he stared at his attacker terrified he would be killed any moment. Zevran bared his teeth in a snarl sneaking up behind the figure to get at him.

He could hear the dark elf talking to Howl in a low voice. His voice a deep rumble that vibrated from his chest. The language was nothing like Zevran had heard before. Howl's eyes briefly widened flickering to him and Zevran met his gaze trying to communicate by will alone.

_Be quiet. Don't give me away._

Howl's gaze focused on the figure again who let out a low growl when he saw his captive's attention not focused on him. He shifted raising his sword as if he meant to chop off Howl's head. The mage licked his lips swallowing dryly as Zevran came closer to the figure.

"I don't know what you're saying. I don't speak your language." Howl whispered quietly. Zevran saw the other elf's expression turn into a scowl as he uttered a curse word, than switched to another language speaking slowly as he did so.

Zevran rose from his crouch and moved swiftly. Pressing the blade of his dagger against the attacker's throat, his hand shaking with fury. He wanted to drive his blade deep into this man's throat, ripping it out letting the blood spray everywhere. The only thing keeping him from doing so was the fact Howl's life hung in the balance. Even with a slit throat the elf could easily kill his mage by breaking his neck.

"Let him go." Zevran hissed. The dark elf went rigid surprised he had been caught. The hand holding Howl still did not move, but the elf turned his head perceptibly. Zevran still couldn't make out his face, but he saw a line of silver tattoos traveling up a slim throat stopping at the chin. Dark green eyes glared daggers at him as he replied in the strange language of his.

"Release him." Zevran repeated pressing his dagger against the throat. A small line of blood appeared pooling on the edge of the dagger. The stranger was practically spitting venom as his hand slowly released Howl. Howl gasped ducking away from his attacker to hide behind Zevran peering at the stranger from over his shoulder.

"Zev, don't kill him." Howl pleaded quietly. Shocked, Zevran momentarily forgot the stranger and stared at the mage in  
>astonishment.<p>

"Are you mad? He was about to kill you! Or do you enjoy near death experiences so much?" Zevran scolded him. Howl was still pale from his ordeal but he gulped reaching out with shaking fingers to touch Zevran's hand, the one holding the dagger.

"Zev, he's scared." Howl said even more quietly. Zevran glared at the stranger who had now straightened up to his full height. His grip had tightened noticeably on his sword as he leered at the pair. If anything this dark elf looked ready to commit murder than being scared. Wondering if he had gone insane himself Zevran pulled the dagger away from their attacker's throat.

The dark elf stepped away as well, moving faster than Zevran had anticipated. Bringing us his sword in one deft motion the tip of his blade pointing at the assassin. He said something else, but this time in a different language. It sounded different this time. Familiar, somehow.

Howl's eyes widened in recognition. Stepping out from behind Zevran Howl raised his hand moving it down to the side as he spoke.

"_Ari shak corst. Ara shakra a nun mizen Qun._" Howl said saying the words slowly and carefully. Zevran stared at the mage wondering what the hell he was doing. To his greater astonishment the stranger hesitated, his expression losing some of its fury though still weary. Recognition dawned on his features as he said something else. Howl nodded and replied in kind in the same language, though he spoke slowly.

"What are you doing?" Zevran asked after seeing this small exchange. Howl paused a blush gracing his cheeks as he glanced at his partner.

"Speaking Qun, Sten has been teaching me. He doesn't know the Common Tongue here. Not beyond a few simple phrases, anyway." Howl explained nodding to the dark elf. Zevran glared suspiciously at the stranger but he appeared calmer now. Even though he still held the sword his muscles weren't as tense as before. Not ready to launch an attack at the slightest misgiving from the other two.

"Ask him why he attacked you." Zevran said to Howl since the mage had decided to play translator. His anger had begun to turn into annoyance as Howl turned his head asking the stranger. A simple retort was given as he shot another glare at the assassin.

"He says he attacked because he thought we were with a group of hunters from Tevinter. Wolf thought I was one of the mages come to capture him. He still does, by the way." Howl answered. Zevran's brow wrinkled as he glanced at the elf than back at his mage.

"Wolf?"

"His name, or so he claims. There isn't a proper translation for it in Qun." Howl explained nodding to the dark elf. _Wolf _as he called himself was glancing between the two trying to gauge who posed more of a threat. He snorted when Howl spoke his name glancing at Zevran wearily.

"_Saarebas_." Wolf spat in Howl's direction. Howl furrowed his brow but appeared to decide to ignore the name.

"What was he asking you?" Zevran asked eyeing the dark elf. Howl was to his right and slightly behind him so if their attacker launched an attack he could easily step in and act as a shield. While Wolf had the greater reach with his sword Zevran had the advantage of speed on his side. He could easily penetrate this elf's defenses and stab him in the throat if need be. Wolf seemed to know this too as he backed up further, sword poised in front of him as he spoke again in Qun.

"Wolf doesn't sound happy." Zevran snorted backing up as well. He used his elbow to force Howl to back up as well with him. His mage didn't protest taking hesitant steps away from the intruder back towards the safety of the lit street.

"I told you, he's scared. The only reason he attacked is because I accidentally snuck up on him in the alleyway after you left. He thought I was a blood mage." Howl explained. Wolf narrowed his eyes when Howl spoke glancing at Zevran. He said something else his gaze focused on the assassin. By the sudden crimson color of Howl's cheeks it wasn't something kind.

"Um, no. It's actually the other way around." Howl stuttered his face flushing even more. Zevran raised an eyebrow as Wolf wrinkled his brow clearly asking another question. Probably asking Howl to speak in Qun again.

"What is it?" Zevran asked now curious. Howl's face turned completely red as he glanced at his partner clearly not wishing to translate.

"He asked if you were my slave." Howl muttered. A self-satisfied smirk spread across Zevran's face as he realized what the mage meant. Suddenly inspired he threw an arm around Howl's shoulders pulling him close to kiss him on top of the head glaring at Wolf defiantly as he did so.

"Yes, I certainly am. Now if only I could keep you in one place long enough not to get into trouble it would be perfect." Zevran teased him despite the tenseness of the situation. Wolf didn't appear to share the humor of the situation but he rolled his eyes snapping at the pair as he lowered his sword. He nodded to Howl saying something else before turning around and dashing off into the night.

Zevran gave Wolf time to safely put distance between them. Once he was sure the attacker would not be returning Zevran turned around snatched Howl's glasses off his face. Howl let out a yelp reaching up to take his glasses back. His partner clucked his tongue swatting the offending hand away with the back of his hand. Howl glared at his lover clearly wishing he had his staff back so he could play whack-a-assassin.

"I can't see anything without those." Howl growled. Zevran pretended not to hear as he folded the glasses up tucking them beneath his breastplate for safekeeping.

"I guess I shall have to be your eyes, Howl. Come, put your hand on my shoulder so I'll be free to slit any throats who seek to do us harm." Zevran said. Howl sighed reaching up and grasping Zevran's shoulder as he lover began to walk.

It was awkward at first as Howl kept stepping on the back of Zevran's feet as they walked. After stopping twice and reassuring his lover he wouldn't run off at the first opportunity they finally managed to get back to the docks at a fast pace. Howl's arm completely rigid as he kept his lover at arm's length being careful to follow in his footsteps.

Once he began to hear the familiar laughter of drunken laughter of sailors Zevran slowed down. Relieved to be back at the docks as he withdrew Howl's glasses from his breastplate. Instead of returning them to the spell caster however he tapped them against the palm of his hand idly looking around for a secret passage back to the alienage. He doubted someone had gone out of their way to put out a sign pointing the way.

"Now, in terms of mystery where do you think it is? Do you see anything suspicious?" Zevran asked casually. Howl was glaring at him a few wisps of hair stuck to his face. Zevran did his best not to smile he rarely saw his lover without his glasses on. Standing next to him he was able to admire how truly handsome the mage was. The glasses made him appear boyish and while cute, made people treat the mage unconsciously like a child. Without them on Howl at least looked a few years older.

"I see a deadman." Howl growled snatching at his glasses. Zevran pulled back stepping away from Howl forcing the mage to shuffle after him. Curious, Zevran opened the glasses and held the lenses in front of his face. He winced when the world turned into nothing more than distinctly shaped blobs and colors. He folded them back up blinking a few times to clear the headache he felt beginning to creep up on him.

"My poor Warden, unable to see without enchanted glass. Shame you have no way of solving such a conundrum. Now, I shall go ask one of our dear sailors for directions to the nearest available room whilst you wait here for me. If anyone attempts to manhandle you in my absence, simply moan loudly and I will join you." Zevran reassured the mage. Howl looked at him in alarm but already the assassin slipped beyond his poor line of sight. Within moments Howl felt as if he had been abandoned on the edge of the world. While, in reality, Zevran was no more than five yards away from him trying to catch the attention of one of the sailors.

Howl blinked reaching out with his hands. He couldn't see clearly beyond a foot in front of his face. He knew there were people milling around him traveling to the brothel or seeing a new drinking hole. To him everything appeared blurred as if he were looking at a painting that had suddenly been ruined by water being carelessly tossed onto it. Truly thinking Zevran had left, he let out a soft sigh and began walking. Zevran had his back turned to his lover and thus did not see him wander off. He had thought by holding the glasses hostage his partner would remain still. Unfortunately for them both, this was not to be true.

Howl's head whipped from side to side trying to locate a flash of bright corn silk hair. In front of him he saw a flash of color. Thinking it was his partner he reached out and grabbed at it instead his fist closing automatically. Instead of the rough feel of leather armor his hand closed around smooth silk. A girlish giggle reached his ears and blushing, he immediately let go. Howl squinted making out a petite young woman who could hardly been older than fourteen gazing at him from beneath her eyelashes. A small shy smile on her lips as she did so. Howl gulped taking an abrupt step back from her. She only giggled in tilting her head to the side like a curious kitten.

"My you have gorgeous eyes. Why don't you come back with me love so I can have a better look see at them?" The young woman said stepping closer to him. Howl's mouth went dry as he hurriedly stepped away praying to the Maker Zevran would appear to rescue him again soon.

"Sorry, I prefer men. And I'm looking for my, ah, partner. He's Antivan with blond hair. An elf." Howl explained. At the mention he preferred men she pouted sticking her bottom lip out impressively.

"Nope, haven't seen him. Come on love, have you ever had the company of a woman? I'm sure I can change your mind." She pressed reaching out to grab him between the legs. Howl jumped back so fast he knocked someone over and both went tumbling in a tangle of limbs. Panicked, Howl scrambled away on hands on knees from the stranger. Standing up now covered in all manner of things from the street.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't-" Howl began feeling as if he were apologizing for the hundredth time. Something sharp dug into his shoulder causing him to gasp in pain. Whatever held him shook him violently causing his head to whip back in forth as a familiar voice growled out an explanation from behind him.

"Thank you for finding him. He seems to wander off whenever I let him off his leash." Howl turned his head opening his mouth to protest. His gaze met the hard glare of the forest green eyes from before. Howl felt his heart stop as Wolf leered at him reaching down to Howl's thigh and ripping off the purse. It clinked promisingly with gold as the dark elf let go of Howl's shoulder for a moment. Dumping a few gold sovereigns in his hand in which he gave to the wide eyed girl staring at him.

"This should suffice as a thanks for finding him. It would be best if you never saw us for both our sakes." Wolf said a veiled threat lingering in his words. The young woman didn't appear to notice as she greedily accepted the coin tucking it into her bodice for safekeeping. A grin on her face as she curtsied to the two handsome elves.

"Pleasure doing business with you, serah."


	28. Quiet Poison

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _Sorry about such a late update! Time seemed to have gotten away from me. O.o Anyway, I recently started taking online classes again and thought it would be awesome. But now my mind is sort of...yeah, I think I'm going a little bit wacky from being inside all day. But no worries! I will continue to update and work on the story and reviews are much appreciated._

"You'd be better off using a dragon."

"Really? A dragon? Suddenly you're an expert in all things magical?"

"Oh yes, didn't I tell you? I secretly practice the art when no one is watching. To weave words is a haunting art my friend. Have you also not considered throwing in a flying carpet? No _true_ story is complete without a flying carpet." Fenris heard Zevran insist on this last part when he woke up in the afternoon. His back ached from sleeping on the divan again as at the table Zevran and Varric were discussing a story. Or perhaps the making of one since Varric launched into a debate about how no one would be interested in dusty carpets fleeing houses.

Fenris got up from his resting place stifling a groan as his back creaked back to life. He really had to reconsider his choice on sleeping on the damn thing. It was starting to become painful to walk since he couldn't sleep properly on the divan. He stayed most of the night tossing and turning trying to find a comfortable position to drift asleep in. By the time he had managed to fall asleep Zevran always seemed to be making enough noise to wake the dead.

He pushed back a lock of white hair growling at the thought of the blond elf. Why did he allow himself to be so caught up in looking after him? Even Hawke had questioned him about the matter inquiring if he had felt lonely in the huge mansion. Perhaps he had smoked something and felt a bit queer afterwards? Fenris tried not to imagine wringing Hawke's neck but the thought was oddly satisfying.

"Are you ever quiet and who let you in?" Fenris snapped at the two. Varric glanced at him smirking in response when he saw the exhausted elf. Zevran offered a similar expression motioning to a covered dish at the end of the table.

"Sleeping beauty awakes pissed off as a Templar looking for a blood mage. I was in the area to get Hawke, but he doesn't want to come out to play today. Pastry?" Varric offered nodding to the pile of pastries in between him and Zevran. Fenris leered at him a headache making his temples pound as he walked over the table. He only wore loose black trousers barely hanging on his hips since he had taken off the belt that held them up and thrown it across the room in his attempt to seek a good night's sleep. He noticed Zevran's eyes appraise his exposed flesh flickering as they picked up on the swirling silver markings. Fenris scowled at him locking gazes briefly with the other elf as he pulled out a chair, reaching for a pastry to eat.

"What's wrong with Hawke? He seemed fine when I left last night." Fenris said thinking back to what the mage had said. It had only been him and Hawke but the mage had been troubled about Anders. Fenris didn't consider his place to discuss such things with Varric especially in front of Zevran but eventually everyone would begin to pick up on the bad vibes between the two.

"Well, we _were_ supposed to go check with the Dalish about something for Daisy. This morning when I dropped by Bodahn told me Hawke had canceled it for today. I tried to bribe him to let me speak to him, but he was adamant. Offended I thought he would accept bribery and sent me off with a heartfelt apology from the Champion himself." Varric answered his tone losing its usual light hearted jesting. Zevran shrugged his shoulders when Fenris glanced at him reaching for a pastry himself as he talked.

"Nothing seemed amiss while you left me with Anders. We had a pleasant enough evening. He seemed quite pleased with me for making suggestions as to his cause to convince the Chantry to free mages. So for once in my life I am not the cause of trouble." Zevran said smugly. Fenris snorted at that taking a huge bite of pastry as he did so. He almost gagged on the sweetness of it distractedly wishing for the smoky taste of bacon rather than this. He eyed the covered plate wondering if it contained the dish.

"Why come here then? Hawke is his own man fully capable of solving his own problems. I have enough to deal with as it is without having to coddle him." Fenris snapped his exhaustion making him irritable. He really should go lay back down and try to catch a few hours more of rest. Varric furrowed his brow glancing at Zevran who shrugged his shoulders appearing for once in his life completely innocent.

"You coddle your pet assassin. Hawke listens to you where if I say something he just gives a charming smile and leaps into the next trap. Come on, Fenris, Bianca will be grateful to you if you do." Varric insisted nodding to his crossbow which lay at his elbow. Zevran chuckled at the comment earning a glare from Fenris as he ate his pastry.

"Give him a day. Perhaps he needs time to himself to consider his options." Fenris said carefully his eyes blazing as he seared Varric with his gaze. The dwarf met him look for look but didn't voice any challenge. He sighed after a minute reaching over to snatch Bianca up as he stood nodding to the two elves.

"I bet there's a long winded drama behind all this but I'm not in the mood to squander a good day like this. I'll discuss that idea of _flying carpets_ with you later, assassin. Don't forget it." Varric said to the bronze elf. Zevran nodded in response as Varric made his way to the stairs hurrying down them. Fenris sighed hearing the door slam distantly a minute later as the dwarf left. He shot a glare at Zevran who grinned at him in response.

"Flying carpets?" Fenris asked unable to think of anything else to say. That also irritated him. He did not _coddle _anyone least of all the Antivan. Hawke maybe if he was in a good mood, but this sly elf? He would rather make out with Anders than admit such a thing.

"Ah yes, my dear friend. Varric and I were discussing flights of fancy before you had woken up. I suggested a few elements I thought might make his story sing and dance for his many listeners. The carpet as I mentioned is from a story I was once told by a friend. Something having to do with finding a genie in a lamp, a princess, and defeating forty thieves I believe." Zevran answered shaking his head at the memory. Fenris paused mid-bite putting down his pastry to stare wide eyed at the elf. Zevran raised a brow trying not to laugh at the clueless expression on his friend's face.

"You have quite the imagination. I find such a notion…troubling." Fenris grunted abandoning trying to eat the sweet food. He tossed it back onto the plate with its brothers reaching over to grab the covered plate. When he pulled it towards him he whipped off the handkerchief covering it to reveal a sandwich. Since he had woken up Fenris was pleased to see at least one thing in this world had gone right. He had bacon, and lots of it by the curling edges of the meat poking out on the sides.

"You seem like a man of simple tastes so I decided not to cook anything else. As to regards to the story I did not invent it myself. As I said before it was told to me by a friend who avidly read such things and would often recount them to me on our travels. Most of our lives is spent from getting one place to another, so why not tell a few tales along the way?" Zevran said with a grin. Fenris raised a brow in response devouring the sandwich in front of him. His head still hurt and he felt tired from tossing and turning. He might as well go take advantage of the bed since Zevran appeared to be awake.

"Your friend wouldn't happen to be a mage?" Fenris asked without thinking. As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to bite his tongue. Zevran's face changed to one of surprise than anger making his usually beautiful features ugly. Fenris started coughing choking on his sandwich as he tried to hastily take back what he said. Once he throat was clear, however, he still had no idea what to say. Zevran's face was black with rage as he glowered at the other elf suddenly not as friendly as he had been before.

"Yes, I would suggest you do not mention how easy it is for mages to turn into abominations or how they should be locked in towers. You did not know him and thus cannot judge him." Zevran said on the defensive. Fenris felt his own anger begin to rise at the remark but instead took a deep breath. He had never seen this side of his assassin before and knew he had struck a nerve.

"I apologize. It is simply…I hardly know anything about you. It's not every day a person spares the life of an elegant elf such as yourself." Fenris said calmly. His compliment made Zevran stare at him as if he had lost his mind. Why in the world _had_ he said that?

"It's happened more often than you think, Fenris. Though I do thank you. I never knew you thought me elegant. I find you quite handsome yourself, though I believe you are told this everyday by your admirers." Zevran replied his rage fading away to a lecherous grin. Fenris wanted to smack himself in the head for what he had said. Why in the name of the Maker did he feel a fluttering in his chest when Zevran graced him with a warm smile?

"You're distracting me from the point. Your life is your own, though. If you don't wish to share it then so be it. It was wrong of me to ask." Fenris said with a sigh. He regretted ever having brought the subject up.

Pushing his plate away he rose from his chair wearily plodding over to the bedroom. He wanted nothing more than to pull the covers over his head and slip into oblivion. When he pushed the door open the room was blissfully dark unlike the dining room where sunlight streamed in from all the windows. With a contented groan Fenris yanked back the blankets sliding under them onto the feather mattress. His entire body felt as if he were sinking into a cloud as he buried his head in the pillows.

A moment later he felt someone else get on the bed. He grunted not wanting to open his eyes. If he did that meant talking, which meant explaining why he had did what he had done on the Wounded Coast that night. Warm fingers touched his bare shoulder lightly shaking him to wake him up.

"Fenris? Fenris, what were you going to ask?" Zevran asked in a low voice. Fenris squeezed his eyes shut tighter hoping the other elf would go away. However, the shaking became ever more insistent along with soft whispers in his ear. Zevran's breath tickled the sensitive tips of his ears causing him to growl reluctantly opening his eyes to glare at the grinning elf.

"Why in the name of the Maker do you never _shut up_." Fenris snarled sitting up to glare at his companion. He noticed in the dim light how loosely the shirt hung on Zevran's sinewy frame. Despite four weeks of being cooped up in a mansion his muscle hadn't softened. Fenris had once seen him doing exercises and stretches in the courtyard when the golden haired elf had thought he was away. Every time he returned from an errand Zevran seemed to drop everything he was doing only to pester him. Even now Zevran appeared surprised to hear the comment tilting his head to the side like a puppy. This only made to incense Fenris's anger as he leaned closer so their noses were almost touching.

"You're always teasing me, _mocking me_ for no reason. You flirt one moment and the next act as if nothing has happened between us. I find myself thinking about when I'm gone and wishing you would be gone when I'm here. What kind of poison did you give me, assassin? Can you tell me that? I haven't been myself ever since you've shown up." Fenris hissed his anger getting the better of him. Zevran's expression hardened though his eyes told a different story. There was alarm there as well as caution. At this point Fenris suddenly felt if he tried to fall back asleep he wouldn't be able to despite his body begging for it. As it was he was beginning to feel…something else.

"I gave you no poison Fenris. Your actions are your own and I simply enjoy your company. It has been a long time since I could be in the same room with a person I knew wasn't planning on stabbing me in the back first chance they had." Zevran answered carefully keeping his voice calm. On the inside his heart had begun to pound and he unconsciously licked his lips. He felt a stirring inside him he hadn't felt in a while gazing into those forest green eyes. Fenris only sneered shaking his head whether to shake loose unwanted thoughts or to try to get his mind in order he did not know. Neither of them knew to be true.

"You're lying. You did something, didn't you? Isabela said you influence your enemies if not outright bringing them under your complete control."

"I never considered you an enemy, Fenris."

Fenris caught his breath as if he suddenly could not remember how to breathe. He stared at Zevran as if seeing him for the first time. The other elf was staring right back at him seriously all traces of joking long gone. He clenched his fists in the covers wanting to throw them back. The room had felt cold before but now it felt to hot. His skin oversensitive as small pinpricks of pleasure darted around in his body.

Without a thought Fenris closed the distance between them and kissed Zevran. The lips were soft under his own and yielding. His tongue slid out hesitantly at first as if trying to remember a forgotten dance. His entire body adjusted to draw Zevran in closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. Forcing the Antivan to tilt his head up to keep contact between them.

Fenris had never tasted anything so sweet or warm. Zevran tasted of honey and cinnamon why had he never noticed this slightly spicy scent to his skin? In his arms the other elf twisted as if wishing to resist, then seemed to give up as he wrapped his arms around the dark elf's neck. When Fenris broke the kiss to breathe Zevran's cheeks were flushed. They were bright with desire as those hazel eyes watched him with fascination. To his astonishment he had the gorgeous elf now fully in his lap straddling his hips.

"Still think me an enemy?" Zevran asked. Fenris narrowed his eyes working a hand into those silken locks, twisting it to forcing the smaller elf to bare his neck as his chest rumbled as he spoke.

"You talk too much." Fenris growled against his skin before biting the exposed throat. He felt the shudder of pleasure ripple through the Antivan a low moan escaping his lips. A dark part of Fenris chuckled at this reaction wondering what other interesting sounds he could insight from the pliant body against his. Zevran's nails dug into his bare back dragging downward as Fenris continued the exquisite torture from his neck to this shoulder.

He heard Fenris mutter a curse in Tevinter when his shirt got in the way. Grabbing a part of the shirt in his fist, the warrior easily ripped it from the lithe body. The fabric was old and tore easily. Chest exposed Fenris was able to admire the dark swirls accentuating every curve and muscle of Zevran's body.

Fenris pulled away from the creamy throat to stare down at the smaller elf. Zevran had begun panting and stared up at him with dark eyes. Oddly, Fenris wanted to laugh at their differences in height. Zevran wasn't short in a human sense; he was an average height for any elf. But himself, Fenris realized he was a lanky elf indeed. He easily topped Zevran by a good two or three inches. For a moment he admired him despite both of them already breaking out in a sweat.

Zevran initiated the next battle of tongues between them. He met the warrior with a fierceness meant for a lion. When he tried to push the other down Fenris easily twisted around so Zevran was now on his back. He had to raise himself up on his elbows in order to avoid suffocating the other with his weight.

Their legs were tangled there still clothed in their offending garments. Fenris thrusted against the warm body beneath his eliciting a moan from both of them. Zevran broke the kiss glaring at him. Fenris could do nothing but grin at the annoyed expression on the other elf's face.

"You must have other lovers. You're to skilled at this." Zevran said suspiciously. That old guilt, of cheating on Howl despite him being dead wasn't surfacing. A part of him was thrilled Fenris was showering him with attention but at the same time he was hesitant. He had taken bed partners only on rare occasions when he couldn't bare to sleep in an empty bed.

"Shall I line them all up for you so you can have them describe in detail what I do?" Fenris taunted surprised by the teasing note in his voice. Dear Maker, he really was becoming bad as Zevran. In truth he had ever only slept with Isabela on occasion but those had been quick diversions. They had never engaged in…this.

"You're learning Lord Fenris, I had almost lost hope with you. I suppose miracles do happen." Zevran teased. Fenris snorted reaching down to remove his trousers.

"Shut up and make out with me."

…

When he next awoke, Fenris wondered what kind of strange dream he had had. He would never engage in such an activity with Zevran. He simply couldn't it was unprecedented! As he lay there staring into the dark he considered it. It had been surprisingly realistic considering his only memories of being with another person was a particularly loose pirate woman.

Fenris arched his back in bed turning over wondering if he should simply fall back asleep. As his legs brushed together he felt something…different. It took him a moment to realize it was sticky and the scent of the bed. A heavy musk as if two people had recently taken a particularly hard tumble underneath the sheets. Fenris bit his lip to keep from cursing. It seemed his _body_ certainly thought the dream had been real.

Pawing at the nightstand Fenris managed to locate a candle in the dark. The fire in the grate had long burned down to ash. As he struck the flint lighting the candle he felt something shift beside him. In the bed.

Where there was dried cum. _Lots_ of it too.

Closing his eyes for a moment Fenris seriously considered jumping out the window. He wasn't one of those people who made rash decisions like Hawke. He didn't run around getting himself into trouble just to see what happened afterward. Despite his better judgment, he turned his head.

There, sleeping peacefully beside him, was Zevran. The other elf hadn't been awakened by his movement. His cornsilk hair spread around his head like a halo. In the candlelight his skin glowed making him to appear ethereal. A divine being come to grace him with its presence for one night.

_A temptress in male form_. Isabela was right, Zevran surely was tempting. Even his body was responding once again to seeing the other so vulnerable beside him. Also was the horrible realization of what he had done. What _they _had done.

Fenris silently slid out of bed not bothering to look for his trousers. They were probably stained anyway since him and Zevran had engaged in foreplay before committing the actual crime itself. Panicked flooded his senses as he hurriedly located another pair of trousers. These were clean, thank the Maker, and he also managed to locate a clean black tunic. All the time stealing glances over his shoulder expecting Zevran to wake up.

Now it was coming back to him what they had done. He was angry, pissed even Fenris knew that. He had also been fatigued from not having a proper night's sleep in weeks. Even now his body felt oddly relaxed wishing for him to return back to bed. Zevran had refused to be quiet and he had suspected him…of what? Zevran had done nothing as far as he could recall but he had certainly silenced the other elf.

"Fenris?" Zevran called from the bedroom.

Fenris felt his chest tighten at the sound of that voice. Was it just him, or did it sound lonely? Without thinking he bolted down the stairs ignoring the call of his name even though it rang in his ears. Reaching the door he yanked it open flying out into the cool night air and letting the door shut behind him. He couldn't face him now.

His feet carried him across the now empty marketplace silent except the rustling of rats at the stalls stealing unsold wares. Once he stopped Fenris wanted to beat himself. Stupid! He had fled his own mansion for no reason except the fear of facing his bed partner. Who, come to think of it, probably slept with everything that moved. So for them to…have done _that_ wouldn't have bothered the blond haired elf. He probably would have grinned and asked if he wanted to take a tumble again.

"Braska." Fenris muttered taking stock of his surroundings. Well, he was out of the mansion now. He had left in such a hurry he hadn't even bothered to grab his Sword of Mercy. Either he went back to retrieve his weapon and armor, which he noted with disgust he was also missing, or went somewhere else.

It was then he realized he had come all the way to Hawke's estate. He glanced at the imposing mansion wondering what his mage friend was up to. He _had _told Varric to give the mage at least a day. Fenris had meant to talk to him only if his friend meant to stay cooped up in his estate for another few days. With a sigh, he shook his head and plodded up the steps. Hawke was probably asleep by now. The night was absolutely silent he didn't even bandits roaming the streets at this hour. Then again, Hawke may have gone out earlier and cleaned up.

With heavy footsteps he walked up to the door. He gave three solid knocks with his fist hoping to be heard. Or to wake someone up come to that. After a few minutes he wondered Hawke and the rest of the household was truly asleep when he heard a muffled voice, that of Bodahn, from the other side of the door.

"Who is it?"

"I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your door down. It's Fenris, let me in."


	29. Everyone is an Abomination

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I was dissapointed I didn't any interviews last chapter. But then again you guys are probably busy a lot of the time. Now that I've been taking online classes I finally find that I have a lot of free time despite homeschooling my younger brother. Soon, I'm going to be doing volunteer work so that will be fun_

_I also did not notice how much of Howl I had put into this story. O.o But do not worry! I have a special announcement for you all next chapter I think you will greatly enjoy. XD_

**DA ORIGINS**

Wolf dragged Howl away from the hustle and bustle of the docks. He hurried him through a confusing maze of backstreets and alleyways until Howl couldn't even tell which direction the dock had originally been. He did attempt to try to remember the directions, but he failed miserably. With each step his kidnapper took he could feel himself drawing further and further away from Zevran. Panic gripped Howl sharp and tight closing his throat preventing him from screaming. He doubted anyone would care if he had.

Finally, Wolf came out into what appeared to be a horse stable. At the moment there appeared to be no animals in sight as far as Howl's poor vision could tell him. In front of him he could see a trough filled with water set under a water pump. Scattered around them was fresh hay the scent reaching Howl's nostrils. He inhaled the scent as if it were the finest of perfumes praying to the Maker he wasn't about to be murdered. If Loghain had decided to send out a _second_ assassin to finish the job of the first now was a good a time as any.

"So tell me mage, is it true?" Wolf said his deep voice cutting the silence. Howl jumped startled out of imagining his gruesome death at the hands of this dark elf. Wolf had released his grip on his robes but now leered at him as if he happened to be a piece of horse shit he happened to step in. Then it struck him.

"You can speak the Common Tongue? I thought you only knew Qun!" Howl said in complete shock. Wolf scowled at this realization glaring at him as if he wished nothing more than to throttle his neck.

"I asked you a question."

"Can you be more specific? I can't tell what you mean when you 'is it true'. Is what true? Me being a mage? I pretend to be a woman in my spare time?" Howl snapped sarcastically. He knew better than to enrage his captor but he didn't see much point. At the very least Wolf wanted answers from him so he probably _wouldn't_ kill him just yet.

"Do you follow the Qunari way? You spoke Qun, but you're lips haven't been sewn shut. You also mentioned 'Sten'." Wolf snarled in response. In the moonlight his white hair glowed a stark comparison to his dark skin. Sten was the only person Howl had ever known to have skin almost as black as obsidian. To see it on this elf was surreal and strangely beautiful. Under different circumstances he would have asked Wolf where his homeland lay.

"No, I don't follow the Qunari way. Why would my lips be sewn shut?" Howl asked his voice quivering as he formed the words. Unconsciously his hands reached up to brush his lips as if checking they remained unbound. He shivered at the thought imagining never being able to speak again. Wolf actually smirked in response to his question a certain glee in his tone as he answered the question.

"Mages among the Qunari are known as _Saarebas_. It is both their name and their station. They're kept on a leash from their birth until death. Precautions I believe the Templars here should take. It would prevent mages from ever turning into apostates or resorting to blood magic." Wolf said.

Howl stared at him his blood going cold. He touched his throat imagining a collar around it, being forced to follow another around for the rest of his life. Condemned soon as his mage gift was discovered. To be beyond seeking a life for himself, a purpose to live simply for being born the way he was. To think, he had trusted _Sten_ up until now. He had known the Qunari to always call him that name, but he had thought nothing of it. Assumed it was a nickname Sten had bestowed upon him for the sake of friendship.

"Precautions? That's monstrous! What have I ever done to deserve such a fate? What has any mage ever done to deserve something like that? Not only would you have us be made Tranquil for being to weak, but in order to escape nearly have us killed in our Harrowing to prevent any mages from ever seeing the light of day!" Howl yelled his voice rising with each word as he said it. He had never been one of those mages who fought for the right to be free from the Circle. He had always meekly obeyed the rules keeping his head down to avoid trouble. Why was he even saying 'us'? The only other person in the Circle whom he had been friends with was Jowan, and he had tuned out be a blood mage.

"Mages are a danger waiting to happen! What do you say to all the victims, all murdered the souls who suffered at the hands of your kind? Do you apologize that they turned into an abomination and happened to escape?" Wolf growled right back his forest green eyes sparking in the night. Fear cast aside Howl felt his blood boil as he rounded on the other elf spittle flying from his lips as he screamed at him.

"Danger? _Danger?_ A person doesn't have to be a _mage_ to turn into an abomination! Abominations are everywhere! On the street, waiting in alleyways, strolling down the road, hiding in houses! Don't become all high and mighty and start condemning those more sensitive to the Fade than you. You should be concerned about the true monsters lurking around you. They're hidden among people, from the noble houses all the way down to the beggar in the street!"

Howl's entire body was shaking as he screamed this into Wolf's face. He was shocked at what he was saying. Few times in his life had he let his emotions control his actions. Even now Howl began to regret what he had said. The look on Wolf's face easily translated what he had in mind for the mage. Raising his metal sheathed hand Wolf's markings suddenly began to glow. Their eerie blue light casting his face in shadow and making the metal appear like claws.

"I will not stand and argue with you, mage. Now, _talk._"

…

Bodahn opened the door at the sound of the warrior's voice. Fenris stood there in plain view seeming smaller without his usual armor on. As a matter of fact, Bodahn thought this was the first time he ever saw the elf wearing a different outfit. Always the warrior traveled everywhere completely prepared for battle.

"Is it an emergency, Master Fenris? I'm afraid the master told me to not accept guests today. Anders is in Darktown if it concerns Zevran." Bodahn said helpfully wondering if that would account for the unarmed elf. Fenris scowled pushing the door all the way open and stepping past the dwarf into the mansion.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Zevran is in perfect health and has no need for a healer. The emergency is more of a…personal matter." Fenris answered to the flustered dwarf. He secretly felt sorry for barging into the estate. He usually respected Hawke's privacy but the mage had been given a day. Completely ignoring Bodahn who began to politely protest his forced entry Fenris made a beeline for Hawke's study. He knew the layout of the house well since his friend constantly invited him over for dinner or offered to let him borrow another book from his growing library as a small thank you. Even now Fenris distractedly wondered if the mage had added anything new as he came into the study.

Hawke was seated in front of the fireplace staring into the flames his back to the door. Fenris narrowed his eyes noticing the hunched shoulders of his friend. When he stepped closer he noticed bags under the mage's eyes from lack of sleep. Hawke looked as if he hadn't slept ever since they had returned the night before.

"Sir, I'm so sorry! He just came right in, and I know he's your friend but I-" Bodahn began to say hastily before Hawke cut him off.

"It's alright, Bodahn. I told Fenris he could come over no matter what the time of day. It's my mistake I should have told you. Go to bed, I think I can manage to not burn the house down while left unsupervised." Hawke said tiredly but the teasing tone in his voice was still there. It made the knot in Fenris's belly loosen a bit. He had thought he might come upon a completely depressed Hawke whom he would then have to cheer up. Bodahn glanced at his master clearly not wishing to leave him alone but he nodded all the same.

"If you say so, sir. No worries, I'll remember next time. If you need anything simply holler and I'll be awake faster than a nug being cooked. Good night, sir. Master Fenris." Bodahn said with a bow to them both. Fenris nodded his assent feeling awkward at being referred to as 'master' by the dwarf. He had tried to convince him otherwise a title wasn't necessary for him. The dwarf had been steadfast, however, declaring such a request was an insult since Hawke held him in such high regard. Finally, Fenris had to give up with a grudging growl to his friend to have a talk with his manservant. Hawke still hadn't done it.

"What's up, Fenris? You finally come to admit your undying love for me?" Hawke asked turning to look at his friend. Fenris scowled at the mage who only smiled in return. Hawke hadn't even risen from his chair to greet him but these were unnecessary courtesies. They knew each other to well to bother with such things. Stepping closer Fenris glanced up at the statue Hawke had hanging over the fireplace. It unnerved him to see it as if staring at it to long would summon an evil spirit.

"No, Hawke. I've come to demand you get rid of that thing. It's hideous and doesn't match the rest of the décor." Fenris said. Hawke blinked turning to look up at the statue. He studied it for a few seconds then shrugged his shoulders turning his gaze to the elf.

"You know, I have no idea where I got that? I've been pondering it all day and I still haven't remembered. I think it came with the estate when I bought it. You're welcome to climb up there and take it down. I'm too lazy to do it." Hawke replied with raised eyebrows. Fenris rolled his eyes going to sit down in the other armchair unsure of how to approach the subject. He had no clue as to whether he wished to discuss his current problem or to advise Hawke in the best way of getting over Anders. He was unversed in either and both problems involved relationships with people.

"Varric visited me today." Good, that would clear the air. Fenris figured he may as well start off at the point where all the problems had begun. Hawke's gaze flickered at the mention of the dwarf whether with anger or remorse he didn't know. Fenris leaned forward his elbows resting on his knees as he considered the mage. Hawke rose from his seat turning his back to the elf to hide his face.

"Do you want a drink? I found this well-aged Antivan brandy yesterday I think you might like. You mentioned you wanted to try different type of alcohol other than wine." Hawke said conversationally going over to a small desk. A dusty bottle of a Tevinter wine Fenris had given Hawke a while back still lay there, unopened. Beside it were several other bottles of expensive vintages Hawke had begun to acquire. He watched as the mage pulled out two goblets uncorking the brandy and pouring a large amount in both.

Hawke came back a moment later, handing him one of the goblets. Fenris studied it, a simple enough one. No fancy markings on it but it was fine silver. He drank a few swallows to be polite noting how Hawke seemed to down his entire goblet in one swallow. Pouring himself another drink and leaving the bottle on the small table between them, choosing to stand now and continue gazing into the fire.

"Hawke." Fenris said hoping to break the mage out of his reverie. His friend made no move to show he had heard him. Fenris growled to himself at being ignored standing up as well sipping at the brandy to help him think. What could he say that would break the silence between them? Say everything that needed to be said with a few simple words? Hmm, perhaps he could take Hawke's route of being witty?

"I cheated on you with Zevran." Fenris said bluntly. Hawke's reaction was amusing and spontaneous. Hawke began to choke on his drink gagging and coughing as he tried to reply. Finally, having managed to clear his air passage his friend of nine years stared at him in shock.

"You _what_? Andraste's flaming ass, Fenris, that's not funny! I actually thought you were serious for a minute." Hawke said taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe at his chin and mouth where he had spat out the brandy. Fenris watched him stifling a sudden urge to start chuckling at the reaction. It was rare Hawke could be beaten at his own game of witty retorts.

"I'm not lying, Hawke. I woke up this afternoon, had sex with Zevran, fell back asleep, and then woke up again only a couple of minutes ago to find him sleeping beside me. I came over here before he could wake up." Fenris said. There, he had said it. Declared it the world itself for the mistake he had made. Hawke was staring at him as if he were mad speechless his friend had done something so irrational. After a few tense moments of silence Hawke sighed staring down into his goblet as if he expected an answer to come to him by gazing into its depths.

"I doubt it happened just like that. There must have been some…foreplay involved. Romance, secret looks, maybe a love letter or two? Come on, two people just don't…wait, never mind. They do just have sex when they barely know each other's name." Hawke said thinking aloud. Fenris winced at the last part having no argument for that.

"Talking was involved but I assure there was no building up to the act itself. It happened before either of us knew what was going on." Fenris replied thinking back to what he had said to Zevran. Was what he said true? Zevran had denied considering him an enemy even hinted at thinking of him as a friend. What was their relation to each other? Clearly not comrades as he did with Hawke but closer than what he had with Isabela or the others. What room was there in his life for these confusing problems?

"Oh, well then. I guess I should say I'm happy for you. I was wondering when you two were going to hook up." Hawke said awkwardly. This time it was Fenris's turn to stare at his friend as if he had gone clinically insane.

"_Happy_? Hawke I don't…why would you be happy for me? I don't even know if sleeping with Zevran has any meaning beyond the act itself! You know how he is, always flirting or batting his eyelashes at anything that moves. He probably did it to get closer to you in order to kill you for trying to turn him in to Nuncio." Fenris snapped suddenly angry. His emotions were beginning to contradict each other as he thought of the consequences to his actions. Zevran could be very well sharpening a blade as they speak trying to decide which part of the throat he wished to slice on his victims. Hawke seemed to think for a moment swirling the brandy in his goblet around as he met his friend's gaze. They had always been close, almost in the way Anders was close to Hawke now. The thought of a partner made Fenris's body ache as if he had just fought a high dragon.

He remembered Zevran's touch clearly as if he were beside him right now. The way Zevran's body had slid against his slick with sweat. Thrusting against each other in a silent battle to dominate the other. To reach that moment when one was completely weightless above the world dreaming of the Fade before they came crashing down their bodies deliciously aching. His stomach stained with the essence of his lover who lay beside him kissing his neck. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear he didn't understand.

Fenris dimly remembered saying to the Antivan, almost drunkenly, he loved his accent. He could listen to him talk for the rest of his life. Zevran had laughed at this, telling him he was a fool. Told him he secretly enjoyed hearing him talk in Qun.

"Your voice reminds me of dark chocolate and smoke, my Lord Fenris. Oh, what you could do with such a voice sends a shiver down my spine." Zevran had told him in a husky whisper. So Fenris began speaking Qun telling the tanned beauty beside him his plans for their next romp in the sheets. There had been a sort of blasphemy in what he was doing. Using this language spoken by those who followed a strict code all their lives made him rise and mount the smaller elf again.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me 'Lord Fenris' anymore, 'Zevy'?" Fenris rumbled digging his nails into Zevran's thighs. Thrusting into the other's slick heat wet from his orgasm earlier. It made his passage easier, he even joked to Zevran why waste it? His only answer were moans and the hands clasping at his back, Zevran arching his back with a low groan as he hit the other's sweet spot.

"Fenris? Fen, what are you going to do?" Hawke asked lingering near the elf clearly worried. Fenris blinked momentarily lost in memory as he gave his friend a blank look trying to gather his thoughts. Hawke raised an eyebrow trying not to grin because he already had an idea what the dark warrior was thinking.

"Ignore you for the rest of the evening." Fenris said suddenly glad his skin was almost black. It did a fine job of hiding the blush on his cheeks as he drank the brandy feeling shy being near his friend.

"May I remind you you're the one who came to visit me? I know why Varric talked to you. Thing is I just don't know if I want to talk about it." Hawke said with a shrug. Fenris watched as the mage downed the rest of the drink pouring himself a third helping. Hawke drank but rarely enough to get drunk and certainly not in the quantities Fenris tended to take his drink.

"To be honest with you, Hawke, I'm only here since Zevran woke up. You're with Anders, you're wiser than me in these sorts of situations. I don't even really know if I'll allow myself to approach him after this." Fenris said gazing into his drink. He remembered what Isabela had told him about the assassin. A broken man, a sad man, a person he shouldn't be with. Zevran had had a mage at some point, a person he obviously cared about. Loved, most likely. Did he want love? Was he searching for it? Or the passion he had shown to Zevran in a moment of weakness relevant? He and Isabela had sex occasionally when the nights were cold, both of them were desperate to forget the world around them. Knowing they were alone in the world except for a foolish man who fancied himself a Champion. Who gave them a purpose and left awake at night fearing the future. A vast unknown for them both in which they sought each other to ground them in a singular memory to preserve for the next time they felt alone.

"Flowers. Give him flowers, everyone loves flowers.

"He gave me flowers, Hawke. Now, about you and Anders…" Fenris snapped trailing off as he tried to think of an argument. The mage sighed, shaking his head as he put down the goblet on the table.

"Fine, fine we won't discuss your personal sex life. But damn, Zevran? I mean, good job man, good job. Well, the problem is that Anders is under the impression I'm cheating on him." Hawke answered with a sigh. He looked so exhausted Fenris wondered if he shouldn't just tell him to go to bed and say they would discuss this another day.

"If you don't mind me asking, whom? Unless you've taken on those offers from the Blooming Rose." Fenris said thinking of what Anders had said. The mage was always being offered a position to be one of the _entertainers_ there. A fact that brought a smile to his face every time no matter what his mood. Hawke had often told his partner he wouldn't mind having to pay ten sovereigns to spend time with Anders. Why ten sovereigns, Anders had asked. Hawke had raised his eyebrows and said they were of course going to be a while so why not spend the money for the quality? Which made the rest of the group pretend to not hear them or begin talking about the price of feathers in the market.

Hawke didn't answer right away. He actually seemed embarrassed as he glanced at his close friend. Fenris began to wonder if maybe the mage had developed a crush on Varric. An awkward situation to be sure but hardly one to call for a breakup.

"Anders accused me of cheating on him with you."


	30. Glasses

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I wanted to thank everyone for all the wonderful reviews! As to the announcement I mentioned last chapter, I will be writing a sequel to this fic called Warrior's Grace. Which will be EXCLUSIVELY Fenis/Zevran! To give you a hint of what I have in store is Fenris is actually the reincarnation of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. _

_The reason fo this being is that the Dalish said Fen'Harel lead the gods into heaven and the devils into hell, right? The Dalish fear him but Fen'Harel did it to give those in the living world a chance to survive. Fen'Harel comes back to earth and reincarnates himself as an elf to learn about the plight of the elves. Once he "remembers" who is Fen'Harel will aid the elves in recovering their homeland and powers of old._

_This story idea stems from when I first started playing the game. Fenris forgetting his name, having a similar name to Fen'Harel, I seriously though he was the Dread Wolf and at the end of the game he would reveal he needed your help for the elves. I've been sifting through a lot of ideas and this one stood out the most and is by far my personal favorite. I also posted it at one point as a prompt but then ended up taking it back. ^_^'_

**DA ORIGINS**

Zevran thanked the man for his help. Reaching into his armor to draw out the glasses to give back to Howl, whom he knew was probably cursing out his name for taking his glasses in the first place. Unfortunately, when he turned around his mage was no longer in the spot he had left him in. Zevran looked to the left then to the right, thinking perhaps Howl had been jostled away from his spot. He saw no flash of robes or his lover's face anywhere in sight.

Keeping calm Zevran began to walk down the dock peering into the face of every elf he came too. It would be just like his lover his to slip away and hide in order to worry him. Howl had begun to grow more and more reckless ever since he had managed to fight off Taliesin on his own. The thought of such a small being becoming a rampaging beast sent a cold shiver down his spine. Even though he held nothing personally against mages in general Zevran wondered if it was wise to allow Howl to practice such powers.

Unlike blood magic, one did not have to consort with a demon. But like blood magic, Howl transforming into any creature of his choosing was also a forbidden magic. If mages could learn such a trick, even if they only turned into small harmless animals, the implications could be infinite. Mages left and right would be able to escape their Circles in pursuit of freedom. Even with phylacteries they would be able to slip away through a crack in the wall or rise into the air.

"Pardon me, my dear. Have you seen a young elf? Baby blue eyes, soft skin, and silken lips begging to be kissed?" Zevran asked a young woman he happened to come across. Her bodice was tied low showing off her cleavage which he admired unabashedly. Her hair was the same corn silk color as his own. A rare trait among humans if he wasn't mistaken. Zevran really didn't expect her to answer, he didn't even know why he had bothered to ask. Her eyes widened though as she stared at him in shock.

"My, my, he wasn't lying. A friend of yours picked him up not too long ago. Said he'd been looking for him all evening. Your boy didn't look none to happy though." The woman said with a shrug. Zevran felt his heart sink at those words panic beginning to overcome him. He quickly grabbed her arm heedless of the people around them as he glared at her intently.

"What did this man look like? Did he give you a name?" Zevran demanded his arm shaking with a grip he had on her arm. The young woman became scared staring at him with fearful eyes. Zevran loosened his grip enough to not bruise the delicate skin, but refused to let her go.

"He didn't give a name! But he was a tall elf with dark skin and a deep voice. He just dragged your boy off in that direction." The young woman answered shakily pointing behind her. Zevran glanced and noticed the entrance into a dark alley. Cursing in his mother tongue, he slipped a few silvers into her palm and took sprinting into the alleyway.

How far behind was he? He dashed through the maze of alleys desperately trying to figure out where his mage had gone. Then a thought occurred to him. He was a _Crow_. If he could just get to a high point even by the dim light…

Zevran stopped peering up at the roof of the building close to him. It was a poor house, almost a hovel attached to a line of others the shingles of its roof cracked and falling apart. Stepping onto a crate left against the wall, he grabbed the edge of the roof testing its strength. He heard some suspicious creaking but other than that it held.

With practiced ease Zevran pulled himself up onto the roof, crouching to avoid being seen from below. He doubted anyone would be looking up but if they heard something he presented an easy target with a bow and arrow. There was nowhere to hide up on the roofs save the occasional chimney or smokestack haphazardly placed at random intervals. Taking a deep breath, Zevran began to travel from rooftop to rooftop. Peering into any alley he came across ears strained for a pained cry or a call from his lover.

…

Howl felt _drawn_ to the dark elf. He hadn't noticed it before when Zevran had been with him but he felt a tingle along his skin. It was pleasant as if fingers made of wind were lightly stroking him all over. Deep inside he felt his mage gift flare hungering for more of this sensation. When Wolf activated his markings Howl gasped engulfed for a moment in the sensations.

_Lyrium_. Those were tattoos of pure, raw _lyrium_.

Howl shivered wanting to reach out and stroke one of those markings. He had never known such a thing was possible to do to a living person. He gazed at Wolf with raw hunger in his gaze trembling slightly as he tried to master himself. Often, Howl had taken lyrium potions to restore his mage gift but this was the substance in its purest state.

Wolf's forest green eyes smoldered as he leered at the mage. There was murder in that gaze, a hatred for what he was. Howl blinked owlishly at him stealing himself against the pull of the lyrium. Obviously, if Wolf has activated the markings it wasn't for anything pleasant unless he had an odd way of tormenting his prisoners with pleasure.

"I….I'm sorry." Howl whispered transfixed by the glow. Wolf's expression didn't change as he continued to glare at the mage clearly considering whether to continue with his threat or not.

"But it's true, whether you like it or not. Think what you will of mages, but it doesn't take magic for a person to become a monster." Howl said swallowing as Wolf's eyes narrowed at this statement.

"Especially those who can't defend themselves." Howl stated even more quietly. He kept his gaze locked with Wolf's mentally begging him to understand. After a moment Wolf lowered his hand glowering at his prisoner as the glow faded. Howl let out a sigh of relief realizing his shoulders had been tensed the entire time.

"Fine then, _Howl_. Explain to me how you were able to read my mind. Such powers aren't possibly for a mage unless they're malificarum." Wolf growled his weight shifting subtly. He was ready to cut down the spell caster if he showed any signs of fleeing. Instead, Howl gave him a surprised look confused on how to answer.

"I don't know, I just knew. When I heard those men it was as if…as if you were speaking to me directly but in my head. I could hear your thoughts and you were just scared. So scared they would…" Howl began his voice choking before he could finish. He felt tears running down his face as he spoke swallowing his sobs in order to continue. Wolf did nothing only gazing at him with that same impenetrable gaze.

"I don't wish for your sympathy, mage. Do you practice blood magic?" Wolf pressed. Howl caught his breath forcing himself to stop cry as he swiped at his eyes willing himself to gain control of his emotions.

"No, I'm no blood mage. The only demons I deal with are the killing of them. However, I do practice a magic forbidden in the chantry." Howl answered deciding to be honest. At this he saw Wolf tense giving him a wary look.

"Forbidden magic that isn't blood magic." Wolf said bluntly disbelieving. Howl sighed shrugging his shoulders as he tried to think of how to explain it.

"I know, I know. And as far as I know, only three people have ever learned it me included. It's I guess what you can call _wild_ magic. Only a person who knows it can teach it to another person. You can't learn it on our own." Howl pointed out to Wolf about to go into detail about turning into an animal.

"There he is! Get the elf, get the elf!" Shouted a voice. Wolf's eyes widened as his head whipped around just in time to see five men dashing towards them weapons drawn.

Muttering curses in Tevinter Wolf grabbed Howl's wrist, dragging the elven mage after him as he plunged again into the safety of the alleyways. Howl stumbled after him trying to keep up as his mind raced. Then it happened again. He could hear Wolf's thoughts.

_I can't let them find me! I won't go back, I won't! Danarius, you made me murder them. I'll kill you, Danarius! You'll rue the day you named me "little wolf"! _

Howl got the impression of an old man leering above him. A searing pain along his arms as needles were stabbed underneath his skin. For a moment Howl felt as if he were the other elf. He screamed straining against manacles that bound him to the table. In another flash he saw bloody footprints on a sandbank bodies strewn around him as he desperately tried to escape. His chest burning as he ran trying to outrun the crushing guilt, the regret he had murdered his friends when ordered too.

"Fenris? Your name is Fenris?" Howl gasped when he suddenly came back to reality. In front of him Fenris actually stopped turning to stare at him in stupefied amazement. For the first time his eyes widening as his jaw dropped.

"How did you-" Fenris said just as another voice cut the air, yelling above the heads of the men pursuing them.

"Howl? HOWL! HOWL!" Howl jerked his arm trying to go towards the voice. He felt his heart flutter as relief washed over him as he desperately looked for its owner.

"Zevran! I'm over here, ZEVRAN!" Howl called heedless of the situation. Realizing who he was with he glanced at his captor unsure of what his fate was. Fenris stared at him the astonishment having faded from his face. The open hostility from earlier disappeared replaced with confusion.

Not even thinking, Howl stepped forward and embraced Fenris. He felt the warrior automatically tense felt the invisible fingers along his skin once more as the markings activated. Howl closed his eyes not wanting to see their blinding light.

"I'm sorry about them, Fenris. If I could I would fix it for you. Just do me a favor and kill that son of a bitch, Danarius." Howl said quietly into his ear. Fenris remained stiff as Howl lowered his arms extracting himself from the other elf.

For a moment the two elves regarded each other. They weren't enemies, yet neither were they friends. However, they were more intimate than lovers. After a moment Fenris turned his back to the mage drawing his sword to cut down any who chose to stand in his way.

"Thank you."

It came almost on the wind. Howl stared wide-eyed at the retreating figure. Within moments Fenris was gone having melted into the night. Behind him he could hear the men catching up having heard his shouts.

Drawing his knife, Howl knew what he had to do. Spinnning on his heel he dashed towards the men taking a deep breath as he drew the knife sharply across his arm. He felt pain as the blade bit into his flesh blood beginning to soak into the sleeve. Tossing the knife away into a trash heap Howl pretended to fall into a heap just as the men reached him. Clutching his arm against his chest with a white knuckled grip.

"ZEVRAN! HELP! ZEVRAN!" Howl screamed. The men actually paused staring at him with disbelief.

"What the-" One of the men began but was caught off. Behind Howl a loud roar came from the alleyway. Howl felt an arm thick as tree trunk scoop him up around the waist raising him clear off the ground as with the other the man in front of him cried out as a sword cut off his arm in a spray of blood.

Howl closed his eyes against the blood spray feeling bile rise in the back of his throat. He heard continued shouts of alarm as his savior continued to hack the men into pieces. Two other voices he recognized joined the melee, a screech in Antivan announcing Zevran as he dispatched one of the men. Soon, all grew quiet except for the heavy breathing of the fighters.

Slowly, Howl opened his eyes. The first thing he did was strain his neck peering to see who had grabbed him. It was Sten, his face stained with blood as he held the mage against his chest bent over him to protect him from any stray blows. Surprised and disoriented by who his rescuer was, Howl began to squirm spotting a dim figure with bright yellow hair coming towards him.

He already knew who it was, but was glad all the same when he felt the cool metal of his spectacles being placed in his hand. When he put them back on Howl wanted to cry in relief as the world around him came back into focus. In front him Zevran had a concerned look on his face as he gently took his lover's arm, drawing up his sleeve to inspect the wound. Behind him came Oghren his war hammer thrown casually over his shoulder as he strolled up to the unlikely pair.

"It's not a deep cut, but it will require stitching or else it will scar. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Zevran asked Howl his hazel eyes fixated on him. Howl blinked unsure of what to say as Zevran reached up and cupped his cheek turning his head looking for any other injuries.

"No, no I'm fine. I'm a bit shaken but I'm fine now that you guys are here." Howl said glancing at the drunken dwarf who grinned in response.

"Yeah, well, when you didn't come back we figured you two probably got into some trouble. Took us forever to find you until Sten here saw Zevran up on the rooftops searching for you." Oghren said nodding to the Qunari. Realizing he was still standing next to the large creature Howl pulled away towards Zevran. Surprised, the assassin slipped an arm around his shoulders drawing him close.

"Come, let us return to the estate. I believe that is enough adventure for one night, yes?" Zevran said glancing anxiously at his lover. For a second Howl didn't say anything then suddenly pulled away from his partner. Confused the Antivan stared at him right before Howl slapped him across the face.

"This wouldn't have happened if you had just left me my spectacles."

…

She found him out in the courtyard sitting on the garden wall gazing at the moon. From a distance she could tell he was shirtless the black swirls of his tattoos apparent on his tanned skin. Isabela approached the lone figure cautiously unsure of whether she was disturbing him or not. When she was only a few paces away Zevran turned his head and spotting her sighed, returning to his vigil of the moon.

"Good evening, Isabela. You are a lovely sight to behold as ever." Zevran said his tone light. Isabela paused weighing the options of continuing her current route. After a moment she shrugged closing the distance between them as she pulled herself up onto the low garden wall beside the elf.

"Lovely, true, but not as lovely as your mistress moon here I take it? You seem to have more interest in her than you do me." Isabela teased but with no real spirit behind it. It was only from experience she spotted the love bites along his neck, hickeys decorating his shoulders along with a few imprints of what was clearly someone's teeth. There was even the shadow of bruises near the top of Zevran's thighs before being hidden by his trousers.

"Are you here for Fenris? He left not too long ago, I'm afraid. I haven't the faintest idea of when he'll return unfortunately." Zevran said his voice clipped. Isabela raised a brow at his tone petting the hilt of a knife she kept at her thigh at all times. She contemplated challenging him to a romp in the sheets but decided against it.

"I see you two have come to friendly terms. Fenris is fond of you if you haven't noticed." Isabela said an edge to her voice she hadn't expected. Startled Zevran glanced at her in surprise as if she had just grown a second head. After a moment a grin split across the handsome elf's face as he saw the pirate woman's brow wrinkle at her own statement.

"Staking your claim, are you?"

"Well, I _did_ bed him first." Isabela said with a wave of her hand. Zevran laughed at that shaking his head in amusement.

"My darling Isabela, you would not believe me if I told you the circumstances under which Fenris and I completed the dirty deed." Zevran said feeling guilt beginning to worm its way back into his mind. He had been trying to ignore it the better part of the night but when he had awoken he had at least expected Fenris there to tell him to remain silent or else. Instead, the warrior had fled as if a demon were at his heels.

"Dirty indeed, painful too by the look of these." Isabela said brushing a figure along one of the bruises on the elf's thigh. Instead of shivering with pleasure or giving her a coy look inviting more, Zevran pulled away from her touch. Giving her a warning look along with a regrettable one. She sighed settling for gripping the edge of the wall as she turned her body towards settling into a comfortable position.

"Zev, I know he was…for what it's worth, he was one of the few decent blokes I've ever met in my life. There, is that enough? Or are you still going to mope about like beaten dog?" Isabela jabbed hoping to get a rise out of the assassin. Zevran shot her a glare but did not rise to the occasion. She knew it was a long shot since he wasn't one to unnecessarily attack at the first sign of a verbal attack. Rather, he would have laughed and replied with one of his own. Instead Zevran reached up with hesitant fingers to touch his necklace as if he feared it would vanish into thin air.

"Decent? Shame on you, Isabela. You know he was far better than that." Zevran shot back at her. Isabela sighed wondering how she should broach the subject. She wasn't even quite sure why she had bothered to come up all the way from Lowtown to talk to him. A vague notion of Wicked Grace and something having to do with borrowing a wig came to mind, but nothing else.

"I know, I know. He was a good person, Zev." Isabela reassured the assassin. This seemed to calm him as he stopped defending Howl's honor as a good person. They lapsed back into silence gazing at the moon together. Isabela mused remembering she and the former Crow had made love on such a night at this over water.

"I have a ship, Zevran. I'll give you free passage if you chose to leave." Isabela tried again. This time Zevran gave her a quizzical look as if she were suggesting they dance naked in the moonlight.

"You mean you lost the one I gave you before?" Zevran inquired. Isabela laughed surprising herself by how easily it came to her.

"I, ah, came into a bit of a situation concerning my ship. I may have accidentally broken it while escaping Qunari in a storm. Which I don't recommend, by the way. Lost all of my men in that wreck." She answered thinking of her crew. They had been loyal to her till the very end, what else could a captain ever ask for? Zevran's expression became sympathetic at this news which she waved off with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, it happened a long time ago. I'm over it now and I have a new crew. It's just…Zev, I know Howl loved you. But the way you're going about your life is going to eventually going to lead you into death. And you'll be dragging Fenris into it as well if you do." Isabela pointed out. This snapped Zevran out of his current state so fast he felt a sense of vertigo as he turned to look at her.

"Fenris? What does this have to do with him?" Zevran asked her. Isabela raised a brow at him as if he should know.

"While we're on the subject, care to explain your unusual circumstances of bedding him? Not that it isn't any of my business but…" Isabela said reaching out to touch one of the bite marks on Zevran's shoulder.

"He certainly has never done _that_ to me. I have to say I'm jealous unless you threatened him." Isabela teased. Zevran smirked a glint appearing in his eye at this new information. He even let out a low chuckle as he leaned back on the wall peering at his bed partner.

"I hardly threatened him, my dear. If you must know Fenris was very tired at the time. I believe the only reason he even bedded was simply because I talk too much." Zevran said chuckling at the memory. Fenris had certainly been quite possessive of his body during the act itself. Refusing to let him leave the bed even after he complained he needed nourishment from such a strenuous exercise.

"You do talk a lot." Isabela agreed her gaze being drawn back to the room. What did she expect to accomplish, being here with Zevran? He clearly knew being with Fenris wasn't an option and yet…picturing them together made vines of jealousy creep over her heart. With a sigh she shook her head slipping off of the wall.

"Well, I came up here for something but I can't remember. I'm going to visit the Blooming Rose and be back later. Good night, Zevran. Have fun with your dark elf." Isabela said with a wave of her hand. Zevran raised his hand in farewell as well but already the woman had her back turned to him. He sighed shaking his head at the thought as he too slipped down from the wall.

He had already cleaned himself up from his earlier escapade in the sheets with the warrior. Now, finding he had an idle moment Zevran glanced back up at the mansion. What awaited him, he wondered, when it came to Fenris?


	31. Fools are a Plague

**Chapter 31**

AUTHOR'S NOTE: _This chapter is brought to you by my Beta Foxwolfmoon! I'm almost done with the story, but don't fret! There are still several more chapters to be posted so if you start to see a sudden slew of updates for the next couple of days don't fret. No, it's not a mistake, I type several chapters in advance so I can update regularly each week. _

"Fenris?" Hawke inquired concerned for his friend.

Fenris remained completely silent his entire body tensed as if he expected a blow to fall upon him. Alarmed the elf had gone into shock, Hawke stepped closer, reaching out to touch his friend's shoulder. Within the blink of an eye, Fenris's hand whipped out, his goblet landing on the carpet with a soft thud, the spilled wine spreading out in a slow circle. His fist latched onto the collar of the mage's robes, dragging him forward with little effort. Hawke dropped his goblet struggling to break free of the elf's grip.

"Hawke." Fenris snarled yanking the mage so there were almost nose to nose. His eyes sparked with anger as his gaze bored into Hawke's. Hawke gulped uselessly pawing at the grip on his robes fearing he was about to be killed with a blue fist in his chest.

"I told him no! Why are you angry with me? What did I do?" Hawke gasped, choking as Fenris twisted the grip on his robes cutting off his air. After a moment Fenris released his grip watching his friend stumble back coughing and choking, rubbing at his throat to ease the soreness as he watched him with a wary eye.

"You cause me more problems than Zevran does. Do you know that? Mages are numerous, but fools are a plague. Guess which one you are." Fenris snapped glaring at the mage. Hawke blinked at him in astonishment not expecting this reaction. He gulped, coughing as he caught his breath being sure to keep a safe distance from his friend.

"Alright, fine, be the big, bad bully. I'm just letting know because I don't think it's a good idea if you come around here anymore. Unless Ander is with me then it's fine but…until this is settled I'm afraid I won't be calling on you for help as I usually do." Hawke said regrettably. Fenris's eyes blazed as he gave his friend a cold glare. Hawke held up his hands to show they were empty, praying the warrior wouldn't try to alphabetically rearrange his insides.

"I'm sorry, Fenris, but…I love Anders. I know you hate mages but when it comes to Anders, can you…be a little nicer?" Hawke asked hesitantly. Fenris felt his blood boil as he glared at the mage hardly surprised at what he was hearing.

"You mages are all the same, every last one of you. Fine, magister, you need not worry about my presence troubling you any longer." Fenris snarled his earlier embarrassment with Zevran all but banished from his mind. He felt satisfaction at seeing Hawke flinch when he called him magister. Turning on his heel, Fenris stormed out of the room. He heard hurried footsteps coming after him.

"Don't touch me. I don't want your magic filth on me." Fenris growled when he knew Hawke must be reaching out for him. Hawke wavered unsure if he should heed the unsaid warning in those words. Instead, he grabbed Fenris by the shoulder. The warrior stiffened automatically as he felt the hand gripping him. His markings began to flicker ready to activate so he could do with away with his friend.

"Fenris, I love you, too." Hawke whispered choking on his words. Fenris said nothing, his back rigid as he listened.

"You're like a brother to me. Ever since I lost Carver and Bethany I just…I just…Please, don't hate me. You and Anders are the only family I have left. I know you hate me for it, but…Please…" Hawke begged, his words dissolving into sobs. He let go of Fenris's shoulder to cover his face unsure of whether he wanted him to stay or go.

"You have Gamlen." Fenris said his tone cold, neutral. Stating a clear fact. Hawke laughed tiredly, hiccupping through his tears.

"Gamlen? I care about my uncle, Fenris, make no mistake, but we're not close. He doesn't know me like you do." Hawke said, to cowardly to meet the elf's eye. Fenris had turned back around to stare at him and he couldn't bring himself to see if the warrior hated him. They stood only a few inches apart from each other.

Fenris turned his head when he heard the shuffling of feet, a door being opened as Anders came in from the cellar. Shaking his robes to clear the cobwebs and dirt he collected every time he stole into the estate. Anders stopped shocked to see a crying Hawke and a solemn Fenris beside him.

Without waiting for the healer to say anything Fenris came towards him daring him to do something to stop him. Anders only stood there rooted to the spot as his mind tried to make sense of the situation in front of him. Fenris looked him straight in the eye as he came close as if he meant to read his mind.

"You don't deserve Hawke." Fenris hissed. He wished to reach out and punch Anders in the face. Anders balked his face flushing red as he began to become angry.

"And no, we haven't been having sex. I do that with Zevran." Fenris snapped, continuing past the mage out the door.

Fenris slammed the door as hard as he could, hearing it crack as he did so. Hawke would probably have to have it repaired. He stormed down the stairs and back into the night fuming at this latest news. So, Hawke didn't want him coming around anymore? Fine, he would be more than willing to oblige.

As he walked back to his mansion, Fenris almost forgot about Zevran. Now that he was away from Hawke, he had time to think about what had conspired between them. He weighed the consequences of going back, but he was no coward. Fenris licked his lips as he thought, imagining kissing the golden haired elf again. He shook his head trying to clear the memory. It probably meant nothing to Zevran. Just a pleasant diversion. Yes, yes. That would do. A pleasant diversion since the rest of their lives was less so.

"I need a bloody drink." Fenris muttered to himself as he came to the entrance of his mansion. Feeling as if he were intruding, he opened the door and almost ran into Isabela, who jumped in surprise. She blinked, as did he; clearly surprised to see each other.

"Hi, you're back." Isabela said. Fenris blinked, for once having no idea what to say. He cleared his throat feeling awkward as he nodded.

"Yes, I am. I live here. Why wouldn't I come back?" Fenris asked instantly, regretting the words as soon as he said them. Isabela gave him a knowing smirk as she shrugged her shoulders stepping around him out the door.

The pirate woman left before he could think of anything else to say. Soon he was alone, Isabela's footsteps fading into the night. Fenris closed the door wincing when he heard the lock slide into place with a loud clank. Almost as if he were expecting to run into a trap, Fenris placed each foot with care on the stairs. Going up as he rehearsed lines he would say to Zevran.

I'm sorry, it meant nothing.

Want a drink?

So….we slept together. Want to do it again?

I was talking to Hawke and he mentioned you…

There's a certain mage that needs assassinating…

Fenris smirked as he imagined sending Zevran after Anders. That would certainly take care of a lot of problems. On top of which he would no longer have to listen to annoying speeches on how mages needed their freedom. His thoughts fled however when he came up the stairs and saw Zevran seated at the table.

His guest wore no shirt, his feet propped up on another chair as he stared into the flames. Raising a cup to his mouth to drink before setting it back down, he looked so serene there. Fenris was reluctant to approach him. Clearly the assassin was relaxed and probably pondering what they had done. Or was Zevran, like him, remembering?

"Welcome back, Lord Fenris." Zevran said, making the dark elf almost jump out of his skin. Fenris scowled before coming over and snatching the cup out of the other's hand, draining the contents before Zevran could protest. When he lowered the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Zevran raised a brow at him.

"What?"

"Thirsty? How do you not know it was poison, my friend? You could be dying as we speak." Zevran said, leaning back in his chair. Fenris snorted spotting the open bottle of wine he hadn't noticed. This time, however, Zevran grabbed it and pulled it closer to him.

"Wouldn't be the first time." Fenris growled, falling heavily into a chair near the assassin. Zevran let out a low chuckle which only irritated him more.

"Truly? Then you have beaten death many times, I take it? Here, since you are so keen on dying." Zevran said, pouring more wine into the cup. Fenris snorted as Zevran handed him the cup their fingers brushing as they did so. His fingers tingled when they touched causing him to flinch. A bit of wine spilled over the rim of his cup, but he didn't care. Quickly downing half the contents of the cup, he then gingerly placed it back down.

"Give me the damn bottle, would you? There's no point in pouring it if I'm drinking the whole thing." Fenris growled. Zevran only smirked, teasing him by drinking right from the neck of the bottle. When he lowered it Fenris was giving him an icy glare which made him laugh.

"Lords and ladies should not pour their own wine, no?"

"I take it you're the lady?" Fenris countered. Zevran snorted, taking another swig from the bottle. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, licking his lips for any stray drops as he lowered it. Fenris swallowed, wondering if the room felt warmer due to the fire or his own reactions to Zevran's actions.

"I may as well be. Minus the curves I'm just as pretty, don't you think? I am curious, though, why do you not pour your vintages? You drink them like so much water. You don't even enjoy them, just consume the whole bottle before tossing it away for the next. Such consumption is meant for beer, my friend. Fine beer yes, but not wine." Zevran scolded him still, to his annoyance, refusing to give up the bottle. Fenris rolled his eyes lifting the cup up for a refill. Zevran promptly poured it for him, filling it to the brim.

"You're not quite that pretty, Zev. Do you truly wish to know why I don't pour my wine? You don't know what demons you will be facing if I do." Fenris said anger welling up in his chest at the thought. Danarius was never far from his mind, but these last couple of months they had begun to fade to the back of his mind. This caught Zevran's attention as he sensed companion's mood darkening.

"Why don't I start if we are to speak of demons, yes? His name was Howl." Zevran said. Fenris started, glancing at the elf in surprise. Seeing the look on his friend's face, Zevran raised his hand shaking his head.

"No, he did not turn into my abomination. Forgive me my choice of words, I used the wrong ones. But, yes, he was a mage. Not a particularly powerful one like your Hawke, and certainly not as useful as Anders." Zevran said gazing into the fire again. Fenris watched him seeing how the golden haired elf's shoulders relaxed, his fingers clenching on the table as if waiting to grasp a long forgotten hand. The name sounded oddly familiar but Fenris couldn't remember why. A pair of pale blue eyes staring at him from the darkness pleading for him to spare them came to mind but nothing else.

"A mage?" Fenris said, unable to think of what else to say. The unspoken question hung between them. Zevran sighed swirling the wine in its bottle as he did so.

"He wasn't an apostate, but he came from the Circle in Ferelden. The one surrounded by the lake, if you have ever heard of it. Howl only managed to pass his Harrowing since two demons were fighting over who got to have his body. He left the Fade before they could do so and they killed each other off." Zevran said calmly, remembering the tale. Fenris closed his eyes, bracing himself against the wave of revulsion he had for mages. Surprisingly, there was nothing he held against this "Howl". In fact it brought a moment of peace to mind, as well as sadness. Perhaps it was the distant look Zevran got in his eye as he spoke seeing a time long past.

"Lucky him, then. Did he like the Circle?" Fenris inquired. Zevran glanced at him, the look clearly saying he should know better, but he continued.

"He didn't hate it, no, but rather he was sad. From what he told me Howl said he didn't have many friends but one named Jowan. Jowan turned out to be a blood mage and escaped the Circle. He tricked my Owl into breaking his phylactery for him so the Templars wouldn't be able to track him." Zevran answered, venom dripping from his voice. Fenris remained silent, sipping at his own drink as he listened. He didn't mention the accidental usage of the pet name for the mage.

"From there Howl got in trouble with the Senior Enchanter. The Templars wanted to take him away, to make him Tranquil but a Grey Warden was there. Duncan recruited him into the order to save him." Zevran went on. He had tried to picture this faceless Warden, wishing he could thank him for saving his mage. Fenris's eyes snapped to the assassin as the name suddenly took on meaning for him.

"Howl? You mean you knew…?" Fenris said, awe in his voice. Zevran glanced at him and then Fenris saw. Tears were coursing down the assassin's face as he gazed back at his companion.

"I loved him. But he walked away from me that day."


	32. Lost Love

**Chapter 32**

**ORIGINS**

"Nervous?" Zevran whispered to his lover. Howl glanced at him, wringing his hands as he glanced around at the gathered nobles. Lords and ladies were milling about, talking in hushed tones as they waited for Loghain. The Earl of Redcliffe had tried to dissuade Howl from bringing Zevran to the gathering, saying it might be taken as a direct insult if he had the assassin meant to kill him there.

"So? Zevran didn't kill me, and besides I should probably thank Loghain for sending him in the first place. I don't know if we would be here today if he wasn't there with me to make sure I didn't die." Howl had said to the earl, casting a look of affection at said assassin. Zevran had only smirked in response, enjoying his moment of fame. The Earl looked dubious but had relented when Howl refused to come the Landsmeet if he didn't allow his lover to come with him.

"What the hell do you think? At least I have my spectacles on no thanks to a certain someone." Howl said, glaring at his lover. Zevran raised a brow, smirking mischievously in response as he reached up to caress the Warden's cheek, making him blush.

"Yes, and I got soundly smacked for it. A fatal blow to my pride to be sure, but thankfully you saved me. And thus, here I am." Zevran said proudly. Howl rolled his eyes in exasperation and wiped his hands on his robes to clean the sweat off.

"Here you are, yes, and we only did it because you kept begging for it." Howl hissed. Zevran chuckled, trying to keep a straight face at the memory. In truth, he had been so worried he had lost Howl when he found him gone on the docks that as soon as they had returned to the estate, he had pulled him into bed before he had so much as removed his robes.

A hush fell over the crowd as they all turned at once to gaze above. Zevran straightened his back; his face expressionless as he clasped his hands behind his back. He winked at Howl when the mage glanced up at him, making him smile before he went up to the dais to join Alistair and the Earl. A moment later Loghain came into view with his armor gleaming in the sunlight. Zevran watched him with cool appraisal, remembering when he had first seen the man. Howl had told him of the man's betrayal, but he couldn't bring himself to truly care. Loghain had sent him to the mage, after all, the person who had saved not only his life, but his heart as well.

"You murdered my general, and now you seek to betray me, Earl? What is the meaning of this?" Loghain called out. Zevran glanced at the man and noticed he had the exact same eyes as Howl. Pale blue, piercing your soul as soon as they gazed upon you. The thought sent a shiver down his spine as he snuck a glance at Howl who stood with a rigid back, his knuckles white as he gripped his new staff.

As the two men began to match wits to words, Zevran could not help but let his mind wander. Howl still appeared ashen from his stay in Fort Drakon which worried him greatly even now. Despite being pressed with pastries, meats, and a variety of other foods, the wizard had still not appeared to gain a single pound. If anything, Howl had begun to drastically lose weight again. The nightmares of the Archdemon had come back for Howl, resulting in the mage waking up in the middle of the night screaming.

Zevran knew many things, but he did not know how to banish nightmares. Wynne had administered useful herbs and brewed special teas to help the mage sleep at night. It was hard to find anything that did not allow one to dream while they slumbered. Howl had even begun to refrain from their lovemaking often insisting they just "hold" each other. He did not mind in the least, as it gave his lover comfort. To see him suffer though and be unable to help him unless it was a warm body next to his pained him. Even now, Zevran wanted to be beside Howl. To grasp his hand and tell him it would all be okay.

There were tense moments in the Lands meet when it appeared it was about to break out in chaos. Howl and Alistair were both braced against the storm, their faces set in grim lines as if they waited to be taken to the execution block. How, Zevran wondered, did two young Grey Wardens stand up to all of Ferelden? How did they dare to defy a hero? A man who was an acclaimed living legend?

"I place my support with the Grey Wardens." Anora announced, her voice clear as it rang above the heads of the crowd. Now Anora, Zevran could certainly say he did not like that woman. She had so easily tossed Howl to the wolves, claiming it had been necessary in order for her to escape. Even now his fist shook, wishing very much to draw his hidden knife and slice her pale throat.

Despite all the trials he had faced, the way his life had been so drastically changed, Zevran still considered himself a Crow. One did not go through the training only to so easily toss it away at being captured by a mark. Howl had shown him a different way to live, true, but he was already secretly planning his own assassination of the wayward woman in order to insure Alistair had complete control of the throne. Who ever said he could not be a patriot for his new home?

"Go down with dignity, Loghain." Howl said, drawing the attention of the rest of the crowd. Snapped out of his reverie, Zevran had barely caught the exchange when a duel had been offered to the old man. Loghain eyed the young elf, clearly looking him up and down. Alistair was staring at Howl as if he had just lost his mind. Even Sten seem shocked, stepping forward as if he were about to intercede.

"Fine then, little elf. Will you duel me, or will you pick a Champion in your place?" Loghain asked, his voice rumbling throughout the room. Zevran clenched his fists, trying to hide a smirk at the irony of him facing off against the man. Loghain could easily outmatch him in brute strength, but in all that heavy armor he would be unable to turn easily or dodge. For a moment Howl shifted his gaze to lock eyes with him before taking a breath and focusing his attention on Loghain.

"I'll duel you." Howl said. A general gasp came up from the surrounding people, a few even chuckling as they eyed the mage. Forgetting himself, Zevran strolled forward, grabbing his partner by the shoulder shaking him as if he were a naughty child.

"Are you insane? You can't take him on!" Zevran snarled his eyes blazing. Howl stared at him in shock before shaking him off and stepping away. Loghain watched with interest, not recognizing the blond haired elf.

"You should know better than anyone what I'm capable of." Howl whispered, his eyes cold as ice behind his spectacles. Zevran stared at him in shock, about to protest when he finally remembered where they were. He was doing Howl no favors by disobeying his orders, if anything he could be beaten publicly for his actions.

"I know, my brave and conquering hero. You are capable of many things which I do not give you credit for." Zevran said his voice low. Howl's gaze lost some of its iciness, but he still remained serious. Zevran felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lips as an idea occurred to him.

"At least let me give you a token of affection. Maidens are always doing such things for their Champions, yes? Perhaps it will help you to win the duel." Zevran said reaching into a small pouch he kept at his side.

Howl watched with interest as Zevran pulled out an earring and pressed into the palm of his lover's hand. Gazing into his eyes, he promised a painful death if he failed again. Howl glanced down at the earring, his eyes widening as he realized the significance of what he had been given. Without hesitation Howl clasped the earring onto his ear wincing as he inserted it through the skin. His ears had been pierced while in the circle, but he had never had any earrings to wear.

Howl leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek much to the astonishment of the crowd. Zevran found himself blushing, surprised by the public show of affection. He made what he hoped were noble shooing motions for the mage to get on with his duel. A circle immediately formed at the bottom of the dais as Howl and Loghain stepped in, glaring at each other across the battleground. Howl's earring caught the sunlight the small inset jewel catching the light casting small rainbows dancing across the far wall.

"Loghain, thanks for the assassin." Howl said but these words were said quietly. He barely moved his lips, but the old grizzled warrior appeared to hear him. Loghain's gaze flickered to Zevran and recognition registered in his gaze. Zevran met it full on, daring him to call him out in front of all these nobles. Instead Loghain narrowed his eyes and sneered as he turned towards Howl, raising his sword to point at the small mage.

"You'll thank me when I end this miserable facade for you. Better to die at my blade in battle than pitting yourself against the Archdemon."

…

"And right before their very eyes he transformed into the Blight Bear. You should have seen the court, they were all convinced he had become an Abomination." Zevran said tiredly. Fenris remained silent, ignoring the growing daylight outside.

Zevran had talked for hours, so absorbed in his lost memories he never paused once to ask anything of his captor. Only taking a swig of wine from time to time to dampen his throat as he talked in order to continue. Eventually Zevran had finished off the entire bottle, leaving it sitting by his hand in silent testimony to his long lost lover.

Fenris was amazed by Howl's actions, disgusted, and even felt a hint of admiration. So, this was the Hero of Ferelden in all his glory? To Fenris it seemed as if Howl was hardly a Grey Warden at all. Only wearing the mantle of one of the legendary warriors in order to further his own desires while uniting an entire nation. Zevran closed his eyes for a minute, holding the mage in his mind's eye for a fleeting moment longer.

"And he just walked away?" Fenris asked in amazement. From the way Zevran acted Howl had clearly loved the Antivan very much. Zevran let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head as he tapped the empty bottle with the tip of his finger causing it to let out a hollow sound.

"Oh yes, he certainly did! He said to me, 'Zevran, when all is said and done, let us travel to back to Antiva. I wish to pay these supposed Crows my regards.' I laughed at him, calling him a fool, but promised him we would do so as soon as he returned." Zevran said a chuckle escaping him. Fenris narrowed his eyes, glaring at the elf. A look of loss was on the smaller elf's face as if his entire world had been crushed. In a way it had, his lover turning away from him.

"I doubt those were his final words." Fenris snapped, surprising himself. Zevran only sighed gazing into the dying embers of the fire as he turned to face the warrior.

"No, not all of it, I admit. He did say he loved me, and he truly wished to pay the Crows a visit. I begged him to let me go with him to this final battle. He would not let me despite my protests. Howl left me in charge of the men in Denerim to lead the charge against the Darkspawn at the gates. You know what happened after that." Zevran finished quietly. Fenris stared at the elf, sorrow curling in his breast at he gazed at the beautiful elf.

"Have you ever heard the saying better to have loved and lost than have never loved at all?" Fenris asked quietly, unsure whether what he felt even qualified as legitimate feelings for the elf. Zevran shook his head, yawning as he glanced at the window with a quizzical expression as if he just now realized how long he had been talking.

"Whatever fool said that clearly did not fall in love. Besides, I have lost mine twice. Clearly it is not something meant to be." Zevran answered, rising up tiredly from the table. His expression looked haggard with black circles under his eyes as he staggered to the bedroom.

Fenris rose following him as he watched the golden haired elf practically fall into bed. Within moments Zevran was curled up, just short of resting his head on the pillows fast asleep. Fenris watched him rest, his mind reeling with all he had heard. Not meant to be? Did Zevran truly believe fate had decided the ones he had loved were meant to die? He did not remember hearing anything of a second love, but perhaps it had been before Howl.

Fenris continued his vigil for another half hour as if guarding Zevran from the ghost of the mage. After some time, he left the bedside going back into the other room to grab bread and cheese for breakfast. It tasted like sawdust in his mouth as he ate the food, but still he forced himself to take each bite. To swallow the dry rations and wash it down with a gulp of water.

Nine years.

Nine years Zevran had been mourning the death of his lover. Nine years he, Fenris, had been running away from Danarius. Nine years of fleeing before he stopped turning to face the tiger that was to come. As he thought about it he wondered if Zevran wasn't running away from Howl so much as searching for him. Did he wish to find the lost soul of his lover wandering the earth in hopes of going with him? If so, why had the ex-Crow not committed suicide long ago?

"A mystery for the ages." Fenris said into the silence. He tossed the remnants of his breakfast into the fire. Might as well go retrieve Zevran's belongings and question him before sending him on his way.

…

Later in the day Zevran awoke thinking blearily he had to stop keeping such odd hours. Then quietly chuckled at the notion of having "normal" hours. As an assassin he had grown used to slumbering at odd times even in broad daylight. Outside it looked as if he had slept until late in the afternoon. Not surprised, he yawned and stretched his arms, wondering blearily where Fenris was. Even though he had only slept for a few hours he had had a deep and dreamless sleep. At the moment he spotted a dark figure approaching the bedroom.

Zevran lowered his arms watching quizzically as Fenris stormed in. The dark elf's eyes were blazing as he approached the bed at a rapid pace. The assassin's body tensed as the bigger elf came close preparing for a blow. Instead, Fenris seemed to lift something from his back and with a flourish whipped the cloth covered bundle causing whatever was inside to fall out.

With a clatter things went flying everywhere. Two sheathed daggers skidded across the floor, newly polished armor landed with a thunk, two pairs of boots of Dalish make scattered, a thick bound leather journal bulging with entries, a worn mabari collar, and a pair of faded Dalish gloves. Fenris didn't even glance at the other on the bed as he waved his hand at the spilled belongings.

"Get dressed. You and I need to talk. After that you're free to leave." Fenris said curtly, turning around and quickly leaving the room. He still did not make eye contact with the golden haired elf. Secretly, he couldn't stand to see him leave.

"Fenris, what is this about?" Zevran called after him, his voice sharper than he had intended. The other elf ignored him, stopping in front of the fireplace with his arms crossed as he gazed into its depths. Curious, Zevran slid out of bed and began getting dressed.

He retrieved his spilled equipment, piling it up on the bed as he found each item. He wrapped the mabari collar around the journal with care tucking it into one of his older boots. Zevran did not put on his armor but rather settled for his old worn tunic. Slipping on his newer boots, he came out to Fenris wondering what this was about.

"You said we needed to talk?"


	33. Turned On

**Chapter 33**

Zevran saw the pulse in Fenris's neck as the other elf appeared to be contemplating something. He waited patiently, leaning against the table as he watched the other. Finally, Fenris took a breath, seeming to steel himself against what he was about to say. Zevran already had a good idea what it was he had to say before he even opened his mouth.

"I want you to leave. Today. I can give you coin if you wish to go back to…Antiva. Isabela said she could sneak you out of the city if you have to leave in stealth." Fenris said, his back rigid from the effort of forcing the words past his lips. He heard the slight shift of cloth as Zevran straightened up, imagined the furrowing of the wrinkleless brow at this new development.

"You truly think I can go back to Antiva after Nuncio was killed? The Crows already know I am responsible for killing several of their own. At the moment my city is barred to me until I convince them I am elsewhere." Zevran's voice snapped, irritation coloring the words. Fenris had to fight the urge to laugh. It was hard to put Zevran in any different mood than being a charmer to everyone he came across.

"Wherever you wish to go then. I will you give coin for passage there and extra for supplies." Fenris said, still being careful to keep his back facing the other elf. After a moment, he heard Zevran step closer to him but still did not turn around. He was too much of a coward to look him in the eye.

"Are you angry with me, Lord Fenris? Did I displease you in some way?" Zevran asked quietly. Fenris closed his eyes, holding back the words he wanted to say to the other elf. No, he could not do that to him. It would be too much torture for the both of them.

"I tire of your company." Fenris snarled, surprised at the venom in his own voice. He sounded exactly like Danarius after a day when things did not go his way. He felt disgusted with himself at the abrupt dismissal, but still he did not turn around. Silence followed this last comment as neither wished to acknowledge what had transpired between them. After a moment, he heard a quiet sigh from Zevran.

"As you wish. I have overstayed my welcome, as it were. I thank you, Lord Fenris, for allowing me to stay and caring for me when I was unable to defend myself." Zevran answered, his tone curt. Good, Fenris thought, they were both going their separate ways. Neither of them had to be hurt by the other.

With a bit of relief, he turned around expecting to see the other elf leaving. Expected the swish of long hair against the retreating back. Zevran had looked formidable in his armor despite his own blood staining it. Those fierce hazel eyes daring him to come closer, promising to dispatch him if he so much as thought to harm the other. Fenris saw none of these things when he turned around. Instead, Zevran had been closer than he had thought. As he turned, he found they were almost nose to nose. Fenris jumped, stumbling two steps back and wondering why he had not detected the other elf so close behind him.

"You're lying." Zevran stated bluntly. Fenris scowled, clenching his fist as the other elf regarded with those same piercing eyes. Did he not know how infuriating he could be at times with his perception? He probably did and greatly enjoyed it at other people's expense. The bastard.

"I do not lie. Now leave. I wish for you to be gone." Fenris growled, waving his hand in a grand gesture for the other to leave. Unimpressed, Zevran only cocked his head to the side in that cute way that made Fenris's knees weak no matter how hard he tried to resist him. How did the damn ex-Crow manage to look so innocent with that gesture?

"You wish? I believe you wish for many things, my dear Fenris. You're simply too hesitant to voice them on the slight chance they may come true." Zevran stated calmly. Fenris swallowed nervously, throat suddenly dry. Why had he allowed him to drink all the wine? He could really use a drink right now.

"Don't be such a fool! I'm voicing one of them now, aren't I? LEAVE! I tire of your presence." Fenris snapped, a veiled threat hidden in those words. Zevran was only dressed in his tunic, trousers, and boots. Why didn't he just obey and go? Instead, Zevran closed the distance between them and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

They were both surprised by the gesture. Zevran pulled back seeming confused by his own actions. Fenris gazed at him in shock, reaching up to touch his cheek. It felt warm to the touch and he found himself blushing. A teasing smile began to twitch at the corner of the other elf's mouth as if he was holding back from laughing at the other. Fenris imagined his dangerous composure had melted away to one of a flustered man attempting to drive out a notorious flirt.

Damn Zevran and his wily ways.

"I hear what you're saying, but your body says otherwise. If I may…?" Zevran said, stepping closer to him. Fenris felt his blush grow deeper hesitant to allow the other elf in such close proximity to him.

Zevran paused so that their noses were only a quarter of an inch from each other. Fenris felt his breath catch in his throat. He felt the overwhelming urge to give in and kiss the other man. Did this infuriating man feel as he did? This heat in his chest, in his head, from just being in the other's presence? He only hesitated for another moment before he slipped a strong muscled arm around Zevran's waist.

Fenris crushed Zevran to his chest, bending his head down to kiss him. Zevran opened his mouth to him willingly, allowing the dark elf to plunder him as he thought fit. Fenris felt a dominant nature overtake him as he let out a low growl, plunging his tongue into the smaller elf's mouth with vehemence. For a few moments he enjoyed holding the other elf, feeling his body pressed against his, despite his spiked armor.

He pulled back to stare down at Zevran. The blond elf was slightly breathless, cheeks flushed with desire. Those maddening hazel eyes with that twinkle meaning the other had some planned mischief. With a snort, Fenris grabbed the smaller elf by the waist, causing Zevran to let out a yelp of surprise as he placed him on the table. Now Zevran was higher than Fenris was, but it was only by two inches, allowing them to continue kissing. After another moment, Zevran pulled his legs up onto the table as well, pushing away from Fenris.

Not to be denied, the warrior pursued him with a growl, clambering onto the table as well. Zevran regarded him the way he would a mark, watching his every move. Fenris grinned wickedly, rising, literally, to the occasion. Zevran pretended to try and escape him by ducking under his arm, but Fenris easily caught him and shoved him none to gently back onto the table. He loomed over the golden haired elf, causing the other man to laugh as he brooded over his captured prey, wondering what he should do with it first.

"You're quite demanding this time, Lord Fenris. Do you do this with all your servants?" Zevran asked him teasingly. Fenris grunted, causing the other to laugh in response. He glared down at the assassin, a sudden spout of inspiration coming to him. He had once walked in on Hawke and Anders doing…well, they were playing pretend but without their clothes on.

"No, I don't. Not unless they deserve it, anyway. You on the other hand I might reconsider. It's not every day one captures an assassin. Especially not the infamous Zevran Arainai, rumored to have dispatched several of the guild masters alone." Fenris growled with a hint of glee. Zevran blinked staring at him in confusion then grinned, reaching up to wrap his arm around Fenris's neck.

"Within the Crows, we are taught seducing a mark is a sound tactical choice. How do you know I'm not simply letting you take advantage of me only to poison you later? I could be distracting you from the symptoms as we speak." Zevran said wickedly. Fenris only paused for a moment to consider those words before shrugged nonchalantly.

"At least I'll die happy." Fenris said, leaning down to bite Zevran on the collar bone. The other elf let out a gasp as his entire body shuddered. Fenris tried not to grin as he continued nibbling the smaller elf's neck as he reached down and slipped his hand under the other's shirt. Sharp gauntlets lightly brushed along the taut muscles of Zevran's stomach. Underneath him, Zevran shifted as if torn between pulling away from those instruments of destruction or yearning for their touch.

Zevran wrapped his arms fully around Fenris' neck now, pulling him down to have easier access to his mouth. They continued like that for a while, Zevran's breath hitching each time he felt the brush of the gauntlets along his skin. His eyes gleamed with hunger when Fenris raised his head to gaze down at him. Already he could see Zevran was clearly enjoying his ministrations. They had both broken out in a sweat, their desire pulsing through their veins for more.

"I find it strange such a master of seduction is so easily bested when it comes to…hand to hand combat. Or are you toying with me until the inevitable? Shall I awake with a knife in my back?" Fenris questioned him. Zevran raised a brow at the question clearly not expecting it. He didn't seem offended; he actually seemed to be pleased his lover had decided to ask him the question.

"You would wish me to be honest, I take it?"

"It's not a wish, it's an order."

"Oh, ho! Giving orders now, are we? Well, my darling Fenris, my answer is plainly this: I have never taken a tumble with anyone quite like you. I rather enjoy you taking charge. But, if you would rather I lead…" Zevran said, trailing off as he saw an unfamiliar gleam enter Fenris's eye. He had only seen it once when they had first met. As the dark elf had regarded him with a mixture of hostility and curiosity, judging whether the creature in front of him was capable of causing him harm.

"I rather like you under me." Fenris said, without meaning to. He almost bit his tongue on the words, but to his relief Zevran only grinned.

"Besides, you are vastly stronger than me physically. It would be futile of me to fight you when you clearly can catch me anytime you wish. Now, shall we continue my interrogation or must I escape?" Zevran asked.

Fenris rolled his eyes lowering his head again to make out with the smaller elf. It was exciting and dangerous at the same time to touch the golden elf with his spiked armor on. In the back of his mind, he constantly worried that he might accidentally injure the other elf. With one hand he continued brushing his gauntlets along Zevran's sensitive skin, lightly digging them into his thigh. His other hand was gouging the table to keep it from burying it into the smaller elf's hair. That would have been disastrous.

Their moves began to become more frenzied when Zevran shifted in a way to grind their hips together. Fenris moaned the fire of his desire flaring to life at the contact. He didn't pause to wait, simply hooked his fingers in one of Zevran's belt loops, yanked him into a better position, and began thrusting against him.

The table creaked underneath them with his thrusts. Both tattooed elves were gasping and moaning, knowing they should stop to take their clothes off, but too deep in paradise to care. Fenris bit and kissed Zevran fiercely, the wood underneath his gauntlets splintering as he dug them in any further. If this continued, he would eventually end up breaking the table. Fenris found this oddly funny in the back of his mind. The mansion wasn't truly his to begin with, so what did he care if he broke some of the furniture in it?

Just as he was about to reach climax, Fenris heard a small, feminine gasp behind him. Alarmed he whipped his head around to see who it was. To his horror there, standing in the doorway, stood a blushing Merrill, a grinning Isabela, and a solemn Anders who seemed to be wishing he could sink into the floor. Fenris jumped, trying to push himself up onto his feet while simultaneously getting off the table. This resulted in him falling off altogether, disappearing from sight.

Zevran sat up hurriedly, got the edge of the table, crossed his legs, and raised a brow at the trio. For all-the-world, the assassin appeared calm as if he had been expecting them. Fenris, on the other hand, had landed with a thud off to the side of the table. A moment later, the warrior rose, his eyes wide with horror as he stared at the group. His expression betrayed the fact he was blushing despite his dark skin. Isabela was the first to break the silence.

"I didn't know you lit up when you climaxed. Can you do it again?"


	34. Healthy

**Chapter 34**

Fenris just dropped his head and buried his face in his hands. Zevran glanced at dark elf wondering if he was embarrassed or secretly laughing at the situation. Or perhaps praying to the Maker to have the power of invisibility? He truly could not tell at this distance.

"It's good to see you're so healthy and vigorous!" Merrill piped up. Anders closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to the Maker to be patient. Isabela only grinned putting her arm around the young Dalish elf.

"Certainly one way to put it." Anders muttered, opening his eyes again. He pointedly ignored Fenris as he came over to the table edge where Zevran was perched. He glared at the golden haired elf like a parent scolding a child who had taken an extra sweet.

"Didn't I tell you to take it easy? You're still not well enough to be engaged in such…demanding activities." Anders said, glaring at Fenris as he said this. Fenris had dropped his hands to his sides but kept his eyes focused on the floor. Muttering something about being tired, he began to move towards the bedroom. Zevran hopped down from the table and snatched Fenris' hand, holding it in his own. This stopped the bigger elf in his tracks, causing him to give Zevran an icy glare, who ignored him.

"As a matter of fact, I haven't felt better in ages. Engaging in a life or death situation, however, I believe I would not be at my best. Pleasurable endeavors? I find it comes along quite easier than I first imagined." Zevran answered coolly. Fenris stood rigid beside the smaller elf, gazing at the window as if he meant to throw himself out. Zevran kept him anchored to the room by keeping a firm grip on his hand refusing to let go, even he tried to pull away from him.

"I'm glad to see you two are getting along. Mind if I join you next time? That was quite the show you two put on for us. Wasn't it, Merrill?" Isabela asked the young Dalish elf. Zevran could hear Fenris grinding his teeth beside him.

"You two make a cute couple. I wish I had an assassin. Do you have a younger brother, by chance? Or maybe a cousin?" Merrill asked eagerly. Zevran offered her his most charming smile.

"I am afraid not, my dear. I do however have a friend who resembles me remarkably. Palen is a noble now in Ferelden, I'm afraid. Though I'm sure he would not mind to service such a pretty young lady such as yourself. He can even copy my accent and my mannerisms. Quite strange, really, to spend company with oneself." Zevran said, thinking of the whore. He had meant to talk to him as a matter of fact about the risks of impersonating a man pursued by the Crows.

Merrill blushed, suddenly shy of the assassin as she pulled closer to Isabela. Zevran wondered if there wasn't something more forming between those two women. The pirate seemed to be quite fond of her. Morse so, at least, than of anyone else in the group, other than Fenris of course.

"I would like that very much. Thank you." Merrill said politely. Fenris gave Zevran another smoldering glare as if he was going to kill him on the spot. Anders cleared his throat, nodding to Isabela who had remained uncharacteristically silent the entire time.

"I don't see anything immediate wrong with him or endangering to his health. Fighting may feel a bit uncomfortable since he hasn't been exercising those muscles for a while but the soreness will quickly go away. I do believe it is safe for him to travel." Anders said to Isabela. The pirate woman nodded, turning to Zevran all business.

"Ready to go? Fenris said he retrieved your belongings not too long ago so you could be ready to leave by nightfall." Isabela said.

Zevran stared at her, then Anders, and then finally at Fenris. He dropped the other elf's hand as if he had been burned. Fenris raised his head at what Anders had said, suddenly remembering the arrangements he had made with them that morning. He turned towards Zevran, meaning to explain. To his dismay, the assassin brushed past him into the bedroom without looking at him once. He swiftly and systematically began to put on his armor, expertly cinching straps and checking his blades to see they were sharp.

"Zevran…" Fenris pleaded. Zevran kept his back to him now as he had earlier.

"I understand. We had an agreement when you captured me. I offered and you accepted it. Why not get a last _fuck_ in before I leave?" Zevran said curtly, still keeping his back to him. Fenris gritted his teeth, regretting having tried to drive away the smaller elf earlier. How did he fix this? How did he tell him what he had come to mean to him?

"It's not like that! I had thought it would be the best for you. For your happiness!" Fenris snapped, angry himself now. Angry for having gone down to the docks to talk with Isabela. Angry for being in love with Zevran. Angry at another mage having broken the heart of this beautiful man.

The man he had come to-

"It's exactly like that! Do not stand there and lie to me, Fenris!" Zevran growled, drawing the dark elf out of his thoughts. Zevran had turned back around a small bag slung over his shoulder. The blond elf's eyes sparked with menace as if he wished to do nothing more than to plunge his dagger into the person standing in front of him.

"No, it's not! I tried to drive you away, but you insisted!" Fenris yelled back. _Wrong thing to say, little wolf. _Fenris thought as soon as the words left his mouth. Zevran's nostrils flared at the accusation, his expression containing barely masked fury.

"True, it is all my fault. I apologize." Zevran said sarcastically. Fenris cursed in Tevinter stepping forward and grabbing him by the upper arm.

"NO! I did not mean...Just listen to me for a minute! I meant to say I lo-"

"FENRIS! FENRIS!" Hawke's voice boomed up in the old mansion. Both elves turned to look at the haggard mage who had just come up the stairs. Anders stood behind him, his hands fluttering nervously as he tried to get his partner to sit down. Hawke braced himself against the doorway using his stave to slowly straighten up. He was gasping trying to catch his breath.

"Hawke? What is it?" Fenris asked, completely dumbfounded. Zevran watched as well, unsure of what was going on. Behind Hawke appeared Aveline equally breathless as she glanced at the dark elf.

"_Varania_." Hawke and Aveline said at the same time. Fenris felt his heart stop as he gazed at them. His hand slipped off of Zevran's arm as he took a step forward, having to concentrate to not fall over.

"She's here?" Fenris asked quietly. His eyes were wide, hopeful. She was here. His sister had come to see him! Hawke offered him a weak smile, nodding his head.

"Yeah, I had to race Aveline here to be the one to tell you first. Come on, let's go to the Hanged Man to see her." Hawke said stepping back from the doorway. Fenris paused, glancing over his shoulder at Zevran. For once he couldn't read the smaller elf's expression.

"Varania is my sister. She and I grew up together in Tevinter." Fenris said to him. Zevran's eyes flickered with something. Regret? He nodded in acknowledgment of this news. Still he said nothing.

"Come on, she just arrived on the boat an hour ago! She's been asking for you the entire time." Hawke insisted, reaching out to grab Fenris's wrist pulling out of the bedroom. Fenris opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. He looked back at the golden haired elf, digging his heels in to buy time. Just enough to whisper those words to him.

"Wait here for me. Please." Fenris said. He heard the desperation in his own voice as if he were begging for his life. He resented himself for sounding so needy, but Zevran gazed at him with the expression of an old man who had too much of life.

"Don't forget to take your sword with you." Zevran replied wearily. Fenris cast him one last, long look before finally snatching up his Sword of Mercy. With urges from his friends, he went down the stairs, each step feeling as if he ripped out a piece of his soul as he did. For the first time since reaching Kirkwall, he prayed to the Maker to keep the assassin waiting for him until he returned.

Soon, only Isabela and Zevran were left standing in the mansion. The others hadn't noticed the pirate woman had stayed behind. She had remained quiet the entire time since they had arrived there. Zevran glanced at his old bed partner who gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry."

"Let's go. I've spent enough time in Kirkwall."


	35. Archdemon

**Chapter 35**

**DA ORIGINS**

"Are you sure of this, Kadan? There is still time to…give the responsibility to another." Sten said to Howl. Zevran glanced up at the huge Qunari wondering, what the new word meant. He had soon started calling the mage that after Howl had found his sword and returned it to him. Around them mages, elves, dwarves, and men stood grimly waiting for battle. They were making the final preparations for the battle, the cries of the Darkspawn sending shivers down their spines.

Howl glanced up at the Qunari, giving him a nervous smile. His glasses reflected the fires that had started up in Denerim. Not far away Alistair, correction, _King_ Alistair was giving a speech to his men. They let out a war cry, morale rising as Alistair echoed their cry raising his fist in the air.

"You're coming with me, you know. I'm glad to have you at my side. You've been a…good friend." Howl said. Zevran glanced behind at their companions. Shigure, Wynne, Leliana, Oghren, and a golem named Shale. Shale had been recruited at the last minute by Howl who claimed the golem could help them in the battle. The great statue still made Zevran nervous. It would take some time getting used to. If they lived to have spare time to spend after the battle.

"Only a friend? Surely he means more to you than that." Zevran said to distract himself. Howl gave him an annoyed look, but smiled none the less. Zevran had tried to stand back with the others, where his rightful place should be. Yet, Howl being who he was, had bodily grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him up front with him and Alistair. Later, Zevran learned Howl had asked the others if this bothered them. Their answer had been that they could care less what the mage did as long as Zevran was still able to fight. Loyal friends they were.

"Yes, Zev, I absolutely adore Sten. He's my most favorite person in the world other than Shigure." Howl said rolling his eyes. Sten coughed looking away. The Qunari and mabari had been the first to befriend the mage. Odd choices, Zevran thought, but the stoic presence of Sten did seem to have a calming effect. His practicality forcing a person to consider other options they would normally ignore.

"Really? No one else comes to mind? I could have sworn there was a third person among that lineup whom you adored above all else." Zevran teased. Really, flirting before a battle? He was a bad influence on Howl.

"More like comes to bed. And I love you. Adore you? I don't know, but you are quite charming." Howl whispered back. At that moment, Alistair came jogging towards them his face grim as he nodded to the group.

"Alright. We can bring two more people along. The others have to stay here to defend the front gates." Alistair said curtly. Already Zevran could see the man would make a good king even if he didn't think so. Alistair hesitated, then continued on.

"Howl, if you want to leave I'll let you. You've done enough and I-"

"Wynne and Sten."

"What?"

"Wynne and Sten, I'm taking them along with us. Zevran is in charge of commanding the troops in the front. We'd best hurry before the Archdemon gets cold feet and flies off." Howl said curtly.

No one said anything for the longest time. Zevran glanced at Howl, angry and shocked all at the same time. He felt bile rise in the back of his throat at the thought of his mage braving this alone. Howl met his gaze, unwavering in his decision.

"Shigure, you're going to help Zevy while I'm gone. Make sure he doesn't get hurt." Howl said while still staring at his lover.

"You're not going to leave me here. I'm going with you."

"You gave an oath to follow me. I'm giving you an order, not an option."

"You released me from the oath. Declared me a free man to do as I see fit."

"I'm asking you to stay here and wait for me. Please, Zev, it's too dangerous. I'll be right back, I promise." Howl said gently. Zevran expected to feel even more angry than he already was. He expected to see the mage to begin crying again as he always did. His partner's eyes remained dry however, almost brilliant behind those glasses mirroring the sapphire jewel decorating his golden earring.

"There's still a ship waiting down the coast. Isabela is the name of the captain. She's still taking on refugees, but she won't be there for long. If you hurry now you'll be there in time to catch her." Alistair said quietly.

Howl glanced at his friend, indecision wavering on his face. For a moment Zevran knew for a fact he could have convinced his mage to flee. To go with him to the ship, book passage, and travel to wherever they were going. From there, they could go to Antiva to see the sites, smell the flowers, visit the old apartments where he had lived in the leather making district. Then the honorable part of him took over, the part he hated Howl had awoken in him. To trust the mage to make his own decisions. To follow him wherever he went, to obey him even if he didn't think it was the right choice.

That precise moment would haunt him for years afterwards.

"Fine, but I expect to be ravished upon your victory. So you are not allowed to rest until I am fully satisfied. I've been training you all year; let's see if you've learned anything, yes?" Zevran asked the mage. Howl blushed, glaring at his lover. A surprised laugh escaped him as he leaned forward and kissed his lover on the cheek. Shigure had bounded over whining for a kiss as well. Howl gave his loyal hound a hug instead, straightening up to follow his friends into battle. He glanced at Zevran one last time. The last time he would ever see the elven mage alive.

"Zevran, when all is said and done, let's travel to back to Antiva. I wish to pay these supposed Crows my regards." Howl said. Zevran gave him sad smile opening his mouth to reply. Instead, the cry of a Darkspawn cut him off.

"It is very fragile. I wonder if it will survive?" Shale commented before dispatching one of the many hundreds of creatures. At the time Zevran has assumed Shale had been talking about Howl. Now he wondered if he hadn't been referring to him.

…

When the flash came, everyone was momentarily blinded. Zevran staggered clutching to the fur of the exhausted dog next to him to keep his balance. Shigure collapsed so both of them fell down the ground trembling beneath their feet. Around them, the Darkspawn had all stopped to gaze up at the tower. In the next instant, they were trying to flee, wishing to escape Denerim. A victory cry came up from the tired troops, those that were left anyway. They began to chase and kill the remaining Darkspawn, hooting and calling at their retreating backs.

"We won. I can't believe it! We won!" Leliana cheered with the rest of the warriors. Zevran stared at her blankly, momentarily wondering if she had lost her mind. Then he began to laugh, almost hysterically as he came to his feet. Beside him Shigure howled in triumph his stump of a tail wagging fiercely as he too shared in the victory.

It took a while, but finally Zevran began to get reports that the "Hero of Ferelden" was coming towards the front gates. Excited, Zevran dropped his daggers and ran with the rest of the men. Pushing and shoving to get a good view and threatening to poison anyone who came between him and his mage. None took him seriously, however, knowing full well who he was. It seemed to take forever for him to reach the procession.

It could only have been a few minutes, but suddenly Zevran found himself free of the press of bodies. He blinked, looking back and forth along the cleared path for the Hero. Why were they all so solemn? Perhaps their losses had begun to sink in despite the victory?

Strange, some called it. A mystery said others. Zevran thought of it as cruel by the Maker. It had become misty in the early morning hours following the death of the Archdemon. Walking with slumped shoulders and even grimmer faces came Alistair, Wynne, and Sten trailing behind them. Zevran dashed towards them heedless of anyone staring at him. Shigure close at his heels as he came up to the group. He felt something bad was about to happen, but in his heart he convinced himself it would be alright. They would face it together. Whatever it was to come. Him and Howl.

Together.

Forever.

"Howl? Where is Howl? Tell him I want to have a word with him about earlier! HOWL!" Zevran called. Why were the men giving him sympathetic looks? Alistair stared at Zevran as if he didn't know him. Zevran began to feel his grin slip as Wynne glanced his way, noticing streaks in the dirt on her face from tears.

"We have no choice, Alistair. He has to know. He won't wait." Wynne said to the new king. Alistair nodded numbly, going to the side and taking the position of a soldier. His eyes were red and puffy as if he had recently been crying.

Sten came forward and Zevran felt his entire body go cold. He was having a nightmare, he told himself. Being punished for having watched Rinna die. For forgetting her, for even a moment. Her death had led to his happiness. A happiness he did not deserve, should have never had.

Sten knelt tears still coursing down his face. This was the first time Zevran had seen the Qunari cry. Cradled in his arms wrapped in a cloak was Howl. His head was cradled in the crook of Sten's arm, eyes closed as if he were sleeping. Zevran had a hysterical moment where he wanted to laugh because the mage still had his glasses on. One of the lenses was cracked, probably from the battle. Howl always fell asleep with his spectacles on. The idiot. With a shaking hand, he reached up to remove them, intending to scold Howl for sleeping with them on again.

"I'm sorry. He…he ran in before I could stop him. He froze us all in place so we wouldn't interfere." Sten said, his voice shaking as he said it. Zevran looked up at the kneeling Qunari, his mind completely blank. No, this couldn't be happening to him. Howl was asleep! Could none of them see that? He still had his glasses on, he had only fallen asleep for a while. He was tired from the battle was all.

"What do you mean he…? Didn't he…" Zevran said, his vision beginning to go dark. He glanced down at Howl's still form, again noticing for the first time his chest wasn't rising. He still wore the earing to show the world he had a lover. Defying all who saw it to proclaim this one thing was his and his alone. He would defend it until the day he died.

"He said, 'Tell Zev I couldn't make it to Antiva.'" Alistair whispered quietly.

Next, Zevran remembered screaming. Screaming and cursing them all in his mother tongue. When he ran out of curses in Antivan, he switched to Dalish, and then to the common tongue so they knew what he said. Shigure had begun to howl beside him long and mournful for his dead master. He clawed at the corpse, begging Howl to come back to him. He was sorry, he kept saying. Later he was told he kept saying the name "Rinna" and apologizing to her.

Zevran didn't go to the funeral. Howl was cremated, he was later told. His ashes scattered to the winds on a cliff near the sea not far from Denerim. A monument was erected there, honoring the sacrifice of the great mage. An oak staff leaning against a sword to represent the sacrifice the Hero had given to save Ferelden. He remembered dimly someone had told him the inscription had his name on it along with a riddle. Apparently, Howl had still wished to find his parents. This way his mother would know the riddle and could claim the prize offered for it. A last thank you for allowing him to take the book with him to the Tower.

Zevran wasn't sure when he woke back up. Most of his days were spent asleep or roaming the halls of the castle late at night. The servants had been informed not to bother him, he was an honored guest. A widower of the late Hero of Ferelden. He still heard their whispers, their low gasps when they snuck looks at him. A constant stream of love letters found their way under his door, under his pillow, on his desk, and more than once perched innocently inside his empty tub.

One morning, Zevran found himself standing in the great hall of the castle. On the throne sat Alistair, talking to a red haired elven women beside him. She looked older than he did, probably in her middle years, but still beautiful. Her face was stern as she talked to Alistair, her tone serious as they discussed the current matters.

"It is the Right of Conscription! You are a Grey Warden, King or not you must honor it! You go against the entire order if you do. Do you truly wish to try and say we have no right to exercise it?" The woman mage said. Fiona, that was her name.

"I do honor it! But what I'm saying is you can't have him! He made me promise before he-" Alistair said catching himself at the last minute. He glanced at Zevran who had remained silent the entire time. The ex-Crow's expression had been completely blank ever since the defeat of the Archdemon. Wynne had been to see the assassin, and said physically his friend was healthy. Only Zevran had become something similar to one of the Tranquil. At the time he was somewhere else, his mind lost as he searched for what he had lost. Mentioning Howl's name caused Zevran to fly into a rage. He had given specific orders to the entire castle, under no circumstances was anyone to mention or utter the name in the man's presence.

"If you honor it, then why do you persist? Only those who are strong enough to survive are chosen to be recruited within our ranks. He has as good a chance as any to make it through the ritual. Besides, he must know about our secret. He has to join whether you have a say against it or not!" Fiona argued. Zevran wanted to tell her she was talking to a king. Didn't she know Alistair could order her to be beheaded if she continued this tirade? For a horrifying moment he thought they were trying to enlist Howl into their ranks. Then remembered. Howl was dead.

"Who is she trying to recruit?" Zevran asked Alistair. There was a creak to his voice as he talked. It had been a while since he had used it. Alistair paused in his argument to stare at him in shock. Then completely ignored the woman altogether to pay attention to him.

"She's a senior Grey Warden from the Circle of Magi in Orlais. Fiona is trying to invoke the Right of Conscription to enlist you into the Grey Wardens. I told her no. She can have anyone else, but not you." Alistair explained. Zevran blinked, comprehension slowly dawning on him. He glanced at the woman who looked quite cross to be denied her prize. She met Zevran's gaze with her own fiery stare. Odd, but she resembled Alistair in a way. The red hair matched and certainly the face. He dismissed these similarities as flights of fancy as he nodded to the woman.

"Is there any particular reason you want me so badly?" Zevran asked her bluntly. Alistair began to protest, but was completely ignored. Fiona held eye contact with him as she answered.

"The Grey Wardens suspect you know the secret of initiation into our ranks. You also happen to be the companion of the Warden who killed the Archdemon. So we are enlisting you to fight the Darkspawn and to join the Grey Wardens to make sure another Blight never happens again." Fiona stated calmly. Zevran gave her a blank look, now confused.

"Initiation secret? You do not simply join the Grey Wardens and be done with it?" Zevran asked her. Alistair let out an irritated sigh, stepping in front of the blond elf to glare down at the woman.

"I told you, he doesn't know! You have the letter with you, don't you? It's a simple request. I'm sure even you can honor his dying wish." Alistair snapped at her. Annoyed he was being discussed without any say in the matter, Zevran stepped around the king holding his hand out to the woman.

"May I read this letter?" Zevran asked her politely. Fiona withdrew a piece of parchment from her robes. She ignored the stares from her male companions who gaped at the fact it had appeared as if she taken it out of her bosom. Zevran accepted it, unrolling it to read it.

He nearly choked when he saw the neat scrawl of his mage. Howl had always had a slightly messy penmanship when it came to his writing. It was clearly legible when he wished it to be, but became scrambled when he began scribbling in earnest. This was letter was done neatly with hardly a spot of ink on it. Howl had known what was coming, or had suspected it.

After reading the letter, Zevran closed it. Fiona continued to watch him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. He got the distinct impression she wasn't leaving here without him regardless if she had to bring down the entire castle around her. He made to hand her the letter, but his hand was shaking so badly it actually managed to slip from his grasp to the floor. Fiona leaned down and snatched up, then for the first time hesitated. The look on his face must have been worse than he thought, because she handed the crackling parchment back to him.

"Keep it. I had copies made when I received it in Orlais." Fiona said, her tone becoming a bit more gentle. Zevran resisted the urge to clutch it to his chest as he re-folded the letter and slid it into his pocket. Alistair was quickly becoming agitated as his head whipped between the two, trying to decide whom he hated the most at the moment.

"So he wrote this. Requesting you not to seek to recruit me due to the fact he wishes for me to be a free man?" Zevran questioned the woman. Fiona didn't seem surprised at the shift in attention, turning her focus onto him rather than the King not standing two feet away. With a huff Alistair crossed his arms, deciding that if they weren't going to pay attention to him, he sure as hell was going to be a nuisance.

"Yes, he did. Your late partner did not give me the full details, only you were someone very important to him. I admit, I was curious. I wanted to see whom the Hero of Ferelden had chosen as his partner." Fiona answered in a straight forward fashion. Her tone dared him to judge her for her cold hearted actions. Zevran secretly applauded her for at least being honest.

"How long have I been not myself?" Zevran asked, aiming the question at Alistair. Alistair licked his lips nervously, glancing at him as he did so.

"Oh, I'd say for a few hours. I mean, there's nothing to do around here so I sort of blanked out for a while myself. You know what I was dreaming of? A big wheel of cheese. All to myself. Best. Day. Ever." Alistair said with a casual wave of his hand. Zevran was not amused to say the least.

"You know what I mean. How long?" Zevran snapped. His ginger haired friend gave a sigh glancing at his throne as if he wished to hide behind it. When had Alistair begun to grow facial hair? The new growth of hair made Alistair appear handsome in an older way rather than his shaven appearance.

"Two months. I've had healers come to try and determine what is wrong with you. At one point we even had Jowan in here talking to you about…_him_. About his time in the tower, but you never responded. The only difference with him is that you remained docile when he mentioned your partner's name." Alistair said carefully unsure of Zevran's reaction to this news. It was as if Zevran had been dead this entire time only to resurface when no one expected him to come back from the brink.

"Jowan? The blood mage?" Zevran asked blankly. He noticed Fiona tense, but ignored her as he focused on the King.

"Yeah, his old friend. He wrote to the Circle before the Landsmeet asking them to allow Jowan to take his Harrowing instead of making him Tranquil. They agreed. Jowan passed just last week I heard." Alistair said, shifting his feet nervously like a child.

How long Howl been planning this? Writing letters to people he didn't even know? Asking for requests and favors in the wake of his own death? It was a sobering and chilling thought to think Howl had begun settling such things as they also discussed their plans after defeating the Archdemon. Alistair reached out to steady him, but he stepped away from the King, refusing to be comforted. The only person he had ever allowed to coddle him was Howl. He didn't need to be coddled, but the act of caring for another could most often heal the caregiver themselves.

"Are you here to recruit me because I am all that his left of this 'Hero'? Trying to salvage what you can from the ruins? Or is there a simpler purpose to why you are here?" Zevran asked Fiona. Fiona's eyes flickered as she gazed at him. Admiration, perhaps? He almost wanted to think it was recognition of him as a person.

"I had heard of your condition from a friend of mine. A while back a few companions and I had traveled into the Deep Roads. Out of my seven companions were two who were quite close. Once his partner died, the other followed not soon after. He chose to stay in the Fade, living in a dream world rather than go on living." Fiona explained curtly. Alistair glanced at her in clear surprise, not knowing what to make of her. Zevran saw her in a new light, realizing what she was getting at. He closed his eyes, taking slow deep breaths to calm himself.

"Is there somewhere where we can talk in private? This room is too big." Zevran complained. Alistair hastily nodded, quickly leading him and Fiona who waved away her guards. All Grey Wardens marked by the symbol of the griffon upon their tunics.

Alistair led them into a small study. A heavy oak desk dominated the room, a menacing presence to any who dared to sit before it. No one made any comment when it was the King who closed the door making sure no one could eavesdrop. Zevran thought morbidly this would be a good opportunity to dispatch the two officials and return to the Crows for punishment. His life may even be spared for bringing the head of the newly crowned King of Ferelden to their doorstep.

"I can assure you, I have no right to die. My life is forfeit in a sense." Zevran said to Fiona. She glanced at him, seeming not surprised by his words. Her expression remained hard, but her eyes had softened just a crack. Enough that he could see that she was a compassionate woman despite her mantle as a Grey Warden.

"You wouldn't mind telling me a bit of your story, would you? I'm rather curious where you popped up from. Your accent is Antivan, but I can't imagine why you would be with the Hero." Fiona commented. Zevran grit his teeth on the name for his mage.

"He was no hero. Only a bookworm. Nothing more, nothing less." Zevran growled at her. _Just smile for me and I'll be set for life,_ Howl had once said to him on one of his bad days. He didn't think he could smile anymore.

"You are correct my perceptive woman. I am Antivan, true, but I am an Antivan _Crow_. Between jobs, as it were, as I failed to kill my mark." Zevran said. The look of shock on her face would have been hilarious if it weren't for the circumstances.

"And he let you live?"

"Unfortunately for the both of us, yes. I rather wish he had slit my throat rather than making me fall in love with him." Zevran said. The word slipped out so easily, so naturally. _Love_. A fool emotion, one he should have learned to dispose of long ago. He was a fool. Falling for it once was forgivable, but twice? At that point he deserved to be put out of his misery.

"Don't say that. There are other people who care about you." Alistair chided him gently. Zevran felt bile rise in the back of his throat as he spun on the man, his voice rising as his anger rose.

"Why did you let him go? We could have left! Howl would be alive right now telling this woman off! Instead of being dead, he would be telling us some ridiculous story over breakfast he had made up in his head. Howl would be holed in the library, reading all the gosh damned books again until he fell asleep with his spectacles on like he always does! He would-he would-" Zevran stopped abruptly when he noticed the room had begun to dissolve. For an instant he began to panic, thinking that he was sinking into the Fade. Then he felt a warm wetness run down his cheek.

He ripped off his glove tossing it onto the behemoth of a desk. With shaking fingers he reached up and touched his cheek. Tears. He was…crying? Since when was the last time he had cried? Zevran glanced at Fiona who had continued to watch, staring at her completely lost.

"I wish to be a Grey Warden. Initiate me into your ranks, and send me into the Deep Roads." Zevran said to her in a hoarse voice. Alistair grabbed him by the shoulders spinning him around spittle flying from his lips as he yelled at the assassin.

"You can't! Do you know what Howl sacrificed for you? Do you know what he had to go through to insure you weren't _killed _on sight? Do you even realize who are? Tell me one thing, Zevran, what did Howl leave in means of inheritance upon his death? Answer me that then you can do as you please." Alistair yelled in his face. Zevran was at a loss, giving the king a blank look.

"Inheritance?"

…

Apparently, Howl was a better actor and liar than Zevran could ever imagine. Over the next few hours Alistair began to produce letters and certificates. Brought up accounts containing large amounts of coins whose sums could have supported the population of Denerim for the next ten years in luxury for each person. Estates, prize farming land, and even different exports of trade had been given as gifts to help "heal" the widower of the late Hero of Ferelden. The Chantry had even recognized their partnership and sent their well wishes for him to get better. People Zevran didn't even know or vaguely remembered paid their respects to Howl in the form of letters or small gifts. One letter from a young woman recalled Howl had given her his cloak despite the cold and coin so she could get a warm meal. Only later did she realize Howl had not only given her silver and copper coins, but also two sovereigns for her to get off the street. Now she was working as a nanny for a well-respected noble family who were very kind.

Another letter from a boy Howl had helped in Lothering. The letter spoke of how the boy had decided to start training to become a Templar. The boy promised to be kind to the mages he watched over and not to bully them. He also promised to be especially kind to any elven children who happened to enter the Circle and to extend a kind hand to them as Howl had to him. Elves always had it harder than most the boy stated.

Amongst all the letters and stories was one common theme. Howl had helped people. In their eyes he was a hero of the people and thus a saint. A few had even erected their own small memorials to the mage. Zevran wanted to shut down again. To scream. To rip apart all the letters and burn them. Scatter them to the wind as Howl had been. His remains abandoned to wander the world forever.

There was even a letter from Nazda which Zevran found to his astonishment. Apparently, the crippled dwarf woman had become head of the Carta since the death of Jarvia. Her inspiration sprang from when Howl had mentioned to her it was a rare opportunity to change the situation for the people of Dust Town. Nazda had laughed, thinking Howl only cruelly mocking her. Instead, Howl had become angry and demanded why she did not change her situation. When she mentioned her bad knees Howl only snorted.

"You still have a brain, don't you?" Howl had snapped at her and walked off. Nazda invited Zevran to become her second in command of the Carta in helping her keep her men in check. If he chose not to, all her available resources and any aid she could provide for him were open. All he had to do was give the order and he would have everything within the hour no questions asked. It was staggering how many people were willing to help him. To accept him in their midst in the wake of Howl's death.

"So you see…" Alistair said later that night as they cleared the bed of the assortment of letters and important documents. Fiona had been invited to stay the night at the castle since Zevran had to think on the matter first before deciding to join the Grey Wardens.

"Howl has made it virtually impossible for you to kill yourself. After you had mentioned to him you had options now where you didn't have any before, he went out of his way to make sure you had as many as possible. You can literally do whatever the hell you wanted. Nazda sounds fun, I'd go with her." Alistair said, petting the letter fondly. Zevran suspected the man may have developed a crush for the woman despite himself.

"None of these appeal to me, Alistair. I know what you are trying to do, but I don't care. I want Howl. I convinced myself he was all I would ever need in life and now he is gone. What is there left for me now but to die in glorious battle?" Zevran asked him wearily.

They had stayed up late into the night reading. In the full length mirror, Zevran saw he had bags under his eyes. His face was thin from not eating properly, his hair pulled back and tied off instead of his usual braids. He looked very unattractive for an elf. Considering his history, his old self wanted to scold him and force him to move. The newer part of him wanted to dig his own grave and fall into a deep sleep covered by the earth. It sounded so comfortable that for a morbid minute he wondered where he could find a coffin.

"Listen, I wasn't going to tell you this, but I'm desperate. Sten…found some people. People you might be interested in meeting before you make a decision." Alistair said cautiously. Zevran stared at him tiredly wondering where the young man was going off this time.

"Not more healers and secret admirers I hope?"

"No. It's Howl's family. We found them not too far outside of Lothering rebuilding their home."

The very next day Zevran left to meet his deceased lover's parents.

…

Lothering looked little better than Denerim did in the midst of being repaired. He half expected to come upon people wandering around like mindless zombies in the wake of the Blight. Instead, he came upon a bustling town, its inhabitants laughing and calling to each other. Guffawing at dirty jokes and hushing their neighbors when they saw the armed stranger passing through. Zevran didn't need to stop and ask for directions to the farm. Sten had left very specific directions on how to find it, landmarks to keep an eye out for, and most assuredly to not draw attention to himself from the local Chantry.

It wasn't long before he came across the small home. It was a one story building sprawled out to accommodate a large family. Sten had mentioned in his letter he had helped the family to build an extension and to repair their home on a "loan" from him. Zevran already knew the Qunari would do absolutely nothing to reclaim the money.

Beside the house was a newly built barn that still smelled of freshly cut wood. The doors were closed but he could smell the fresh scent of hay coming from it. Behind the house stretched several acres of farmland. A small vegetable garden in front for easy access. To the side was a henhouse with several chickens pecking away in the dirt. As he came closer he noticed a small elven girl with mousy brown hair tossing feed to the chickens from a bucket. At that moment she happened to notice him and her eyes widened. The little girl, she couldn't have been older than seven, dropped the bucket and dashed into the house.

Zevran tensed, wondering if he would be welcomed. Sten had not mentioned anything in his letter about what kind of reception to accept. Only the barest of details that mentioned a mother, a father, and three young children. Nothing about what the family was like or the personalities of the parents. He began to wonder if coming to the house was even a good idea. These last two months he had been haunted by Howl's death. Now here he was going to march into the place where he had come from originally.

When he reached the front door an elven woman opened the door. Her hair was brown like her daughter's, who clung to her skirt peeking out at the stranger. Zevran almost staggered when he saw her for the first time. She had the same face as Howl. That same calm, serene expression of one who contemplates life often. Her hands were slightly damp as if she had been interrupted doing laundry. Zevran remembered holding similar hands in his own as he whispered to a blue eyed mage in the dark, lulling him to sleep with stories of Antiva.

"Can I help you, serah?" The woman asked sharply. Trembling, Zevran reached into his back at his side, drawing out the worn novel with the picture of a walking castle embossed on the cover.

"I believe this is yours." He said quietly. Confused, the woman accepted the book and glanced down at it. It took only a second for her face to register what it was as she looked up at him with wide startled eyes.

"So you're Zevran." She said breathlessly.


	36. Betrayal

**Chapter 36**

When they were halfway to Lowtown, Fenris began to notice Hawke acting strangely. The mage kept stopping every couple of feet to look over his shoulder as if he expected them to be ambushed. Anders too, was acting oddly. He kept casting looks at the dark elf with a gleam in his eye that worried him. Aveline, after much prompting from Hawke, had agreed to go back and make sure Zevran was alright. Merrill seemed to notice something was wrong with Hawke as well, because it was she who stopped the group altogether.

"Hawke, what's wrong? You're acting like you have ants for pants." Merrill said. Despite the dire situation, Fenris snorted and covered his mouth to hide his grin. Anders seemed annoyed, shooting a glare at his partner. Hawke glanced at her, then looked back at Fenris. Why did Hawke have such a guilty look on his face? Then Fenris remembered why the mage may be uncomfortable in his presence. He coughed forcing himself to meet the mage's gaze.

"It's that, isn't it?" Fenris asked him. Hawke nodded, but he still had an expression on his face as if one of his limbs was being cut off.

"Part of the problem, yes. Why not see your sister later? Or invite her up to the mansion instead? I'm sure she'd love to meet your new boyfriend." Hawke interjected weakly. Fenris narrowed his eyes at the suggestion. Hawke hadn't been there when he had argued with Zevran, maybe hadn't even noticed him begging the smaller elf to stay.

"What part of 'Danarius' don't you understand?" Fenris snapped. He stopped when he noticed the mage flinch at the name his face going pale. Concerned, Fenris softened his tone, hoping to calm Hawke down. He had been a good friend to him over the years. He found the way the mage acted odd considering how fearless Hawke tended to be when pursuing their enemies. Right now he seemed almost…cowardly.

"I'm willing to forgive any misgivings between us, Hawke. I won't hold a grudge against you. And honestly, I could care less right now. I want to see Varania. _Now_." Fenris interjected for emphasis. Hawke's shoulders slumped as he gave the elf a haunted look.

"Okay." Hawke said weakly.

Fenris gave the mage a one last, concerned look before turning on his heel and continuing on toward the Hanged Man. Merrill asked the mage if he was okay, but Hawke shook her off. He seemed unable to look either of his companions in the eye as they walked. Fenris pushed it from his mind, deciding they could deal with the matter later.

By the time they reached the Hanged Man, all thoughts of Hawke were completely banished from his mind. Fenris didn't even wait as he shoved the door open to the tavern. When he saw her, he already knew. So eager was he to see her he had even come in a few steps into the Hanged Man. Seeing her there, however, after months and months of thinking of her. Wondering if she should recognize him from a distant time long past. When Varania turned her head to gaze at him, Fenris already knew. He was breathless as he stumbled towards her, distantly realizing with a sense of awe they had the same eyes.

She was petite, shorter than he was, with pale milky skin rather than the velvety darkness of his. She blinked and glanced at him, a look of surprise crossing her beautiful features. Fenris was shaking, raising his hand as if to calm a frightened deer not wishing to scare it. Her eyes flickered down to the metal gauntlet encasing his hands and seemed to take in his appearance. Catching his breath, he tried to push the words past his lips, the rehearsed lines he had kept on hand to say to her for the first time they met.

"Varania?" He said as if fearing she were an illusion. A sad smile spread across her face as he uttered her name. Fenris swore his heart stopped when she gave him that sign of acknowledgment as her brother.

"It really is you. I didn't think you would come." Varania said, her tone seeming to ring with a hidden warning. Fenris was too awed by her presence to care, burying his instincts to analyze the signs something was off about the reunion.

"I remember you. We used to play in our master's courtyard while mother worked. You would call me-"

"Leto, that's your name." Varania said, her gaze shifting to the ground. Fenris wondered if his appearance scared her. Mustering his scattered thoughts, he tried to ease the tension in the room. Behind him he could hear Hawke shifting nervously tapping his stave on the floor quietly as if sending a signal to someone.

"Leto? A friend of mine would think such a name is too cute to describe me." Fenris said, trying to crack a grin for her sake. Seeing her face fall at the joke, he felt his grin fall as he stepped forward reaching for her arm.

"What's wrong? Are you unhappy to see me?" Fenris asked her, concerned. He felt his stomach between to twist in knots wondering for a horrifying moment if she meant to reject him. Say this was a mistake and that they should part ways. Behind him, he heard Hawke quietly clear his throat as he raised his voice.

"How long are you planning to wait back there? He already knows something is up, he won't attack because of his sister." Hawke said, his voice calm and flat. Fenris started, turning to glance at the mage in confusion. Hawke's face was stoic, not meeting his gaze as he focused on a familiar figure coming down the stairs.

Fenris froze when he saw who came towards him. His heart began to pound, panic beginning to set in as he recognized the ice blue eyes staring at him in appraisal. Behind Danarius came a regiment of guards far, too many for him to take on alone. If he had the help of Hawke, however…

Hawke ignored Fenris, nodding to Danarius as the other mage pulled closer. Anders had a satisfied look on his face as he glanced at his partner, clearly proud of him. Hawke's face was pale as if he were sick but he managed to hold onto his lunch as the magister approached. Fenris felt as if he were about to be sick as well.

"Fenris, such a pleasure to see you again after so long. I thank you, Hawke, for taking such good care of him for me. You have no idea how much trouble I've had trying to retrieve him. I spent a small fortune alone trying to find out his whereabouts." Danarius said with a sigh, as if they were discussing this over tea.

"You _led _him here?" Fenris hissed at Varania. A guilty look was all the answer he needed as shifted his gaze to Hawke taking a step back from the trio. He reached up his hand, shaking as he tried to grasp the hilt of his sword in order to draw it. How could Hawke do this to him? Fenris glanced at the grim mage whom he had dared to call "friend" for so long. How could he have been so naïve?

"Now, now, Fenris, your sister did what any good Imperial citizen should. Now Hawke, as to the reward for returning my stolen property, the Tevinter Imperium is in your debt. Your partner, Anders I believe, mentioned you had something already in mind?" Danarius asked of the man as if Fenris wasn't even there. Furious, Fenris felt his markings beginning to activate shimmering as he imagined shoving his fist through Danarius' chest and ripping his heart out through his throat.

"Don't Fenris. Don't force my hand." Hawke threatened, stepping in front of the Tevinter Magister. His eyes still held that deep regret, but seemed to be those of a dying man. Begging for salvation even while knowing as he lay there he was damned. Anders shifted as well, his grip tightening on his staff as he fell into a low stance ready to cast in case his partner gave the signal. Danarius seemed relaxed at the idea that the Champion of Kirkwall had taken on the role of his bodyguard.

"You traitor!" Fenris hissed, spittle flying from his lips. His eyes blazed as he glared at the mage even as his heart felt as if it were being ripped in half.

"To think, you even dared to call me 'brother'. At one point I was willing to believe you, _Magister_. Not all mages are born with an evil intent and look where it got me. Handed back to the very man you swore to help me kill." Fenris growled, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. Hawke didn't miss a beat as his eyes narrowed as he raised his staff the tips of his fingers beginning to crackle with energy.

"Danarius promised not to hurt you this time, Fenris. He won't…_use_ you like he did before. You'll be happier once you forget me and everyone else. Forget you ever wanted to be free. You're just not ready to be free, Fenris." Hawke said, trying to make his voice sound soothing. Danarius pouted, his lips pursing together as he cast a concerned glance towards his prized possession.

"Try not to be too rough with him, Serah Hawke. Come, Fenris, will you really throw away your life for freedom? Why, it's nothing more than an ideal! A fantasy created in people's minds to help drag them through this stinking pit we call 'life' each day." Danarius stated, sounding amused at his own explanation.

Fenris hesitated, glancing at Hawke hoping to see that familiar grin. A sharp laugh as the Champion made a biting comment to the magister and then proceeded to dismember him one limb at a time. He could see in his mind his comrade for the last nine years turning around and smashing the end of his staff in Danarius' ugly smirking face. Rarely does life mirror what one pictures in their mind though as Fenris let his hand slide from the hilt of his sword, Mercy, Hawke had given him not to long ago.

"I won't fight you, Danarius." Fenris whispered, hanging his head to hide the expression on his face. In his mind, he saw Zevran glaring at him in contempt as he left. He would not be coming back to him, to tell him he wanted to stay by his side.


	37. Howl

**Chapter 37**

Zevran walked at a brisk pace, Isabela ahead of him as she led him down to the docks. He felt uneasy, a tugging at his breast as if he should have followed the dark elf. Shaking the doubt from his mind, he scolded himself for hesitating and focused on the woman in front of him. Isabela glanced over her shoulder to make sure she he was still following as she weaved through the maze of alleys.

"You don't even want to say goodbye? He won't take it too lightly for you just leaving like this." Isabela asked. Zevran scowled, hefting his pack higher up on his shoulder. He regretted having lost Howl's mabari several years ago. The loyal hound had died protecting him from the guild master of the Crows.

"And how would that benefit either of us? Fenris is a man fleeing from his past which nips at his heels every day. I seek to change the ways of the guild and thus anger the Crows. What room is there for us to be together?" Zevran snapped at her vehemently. At this Isabela fell back to look him right in the eye. The blasted woman was far too good at reading the emotions of men.

"A lot considering that's the weakest excuse I've ever heard from an Antivan Crow."

"I am no longer a Crow."

"You still think of yourself as a bloody Crow and you know it!"

"Ah, on that count perhaps you are right my dear. One does not so easily forget a lifetime of learning various ways to kill people."

"Exactly. Besides, is there really such a huge difference from fleeing one's past and running away from a memory?" Isabela pressed.

At this, Zevran felt his grin go slack at the question. He shifted his hazel gaze from her to focus on the stained stones of the alley. They were streaked with filth he didn't even want to begin to study too closely. Fenris had made it clear he had wanted him to leave. And yet…why did he hesitate to keep moving forward? To continue on the path he had chosen for himself away from Ferelden?

Back in Denerim, Palen filled in his role as the widower of the late Hero. They looked so similar no one would know the difference between the two unless they stood side by side. Palen had even learned to mimic his accent thus completing the disguise as the new Baron and adviser to King Alistair. Though Palen's advice leaned more towards several ways to please a partner in bed rather than how to rule a country.

Howl would have been a great help to Alistair if he still lived. No doubt, Zevran mused, Howl would come to him every time he had a problem like he always did. Asking him for advice, what was his opinion on this so-and-so political matter? When was the best time to plant, early spring or early summer? In winter was it wasteful to light the fire and keep it fed when one wasn't even in the room? Had he read this latest novel published by a little known author?

Why had Howl bothered to trust him? What was it about him, the person who had tried to _kill_ him, that Howl had been attracted to? At first, Zevran had assumed it was merely a physical desire to share his bed. Then he began to wonder if Howl simply enjoyed the company of another elf in the group. Then, later, Zevran found himself amused at Howl's antics. How clueless the elven mage was when it came to life. How touching it was to see so pure a soul helping out another simply out of goodwill rather than a reward.

After Howl had died, Zevran had wished he could be turned Tranquil. To simply wander about in the world in a state of bliss unable to comprehend pain or suffering from other people. Always able to think logically no matter the circumstances. After leaving to follow Sten, Zevran had met Howl's family. They had been excited to meet him, welcoming him as one of their own.

It had been a strange time, spending a year with people whom he knew his lover had been with for a short time of his life. Howl's mother had been a firecracker always going toe to toe to anyone who dared to try and give her orders. Her husband was quiet and stoic, too busy working the fields to bother to think overly much. He was a highly intelligent man, however, once commenting to Zevran how he admired his son's ability to connect with people.

Sten had, surprisingly, been adopted by Howl's younger twin sisters whom had been born shortly after he had been taken to the Circle. They were seven years old and one day had begun to call Sten "grandpa" after a few days of the Qunari helping their father around the farm. Zevran remembered laughing himself to tears seeing a seven year old elven girl instructing the huge warrior on how to make a proper daisy chain. Sten watched over and protected them and seemed content with his "role".

Zevran had left since he couldn't stand to be around them after a while. While it was nice to experience living with a family, he didn't feel as if he truly belonged. It was funny how his skills as an assassin were so unsuited to daily life or making a living among common folk. When he had last checked on them, Sten and the family were living comfortably on a huge estate they have moved to out in the country.

What would have Howl done were he here right now? What advice would the mage give him if he had asked for it? What answer, Zevran wondered, would he have received had he pressed the mage to answer?

_You just seemed so sad_, Howl's voice echoed eerily in his head.

_I wanted to see you smile. Fenris made you smile too, Zevran. He is happy when you're with him. Why would you leave someone who cared about you?_

Zevran stopped in the middle of the alley, blinking unnecessarily. Howl was dead, he was never coming back. So why, for a moment, had he felt as if the mage stood right next to him? He glanced to his right side expecting to see bright blue eyes gazing at him. Instead he saw Isabela giving him a curious look, asking silently why he had stopped. Zevran clenched his fist, imagining himself holding a slim hand, stained with ink from writing in a journal now stowed safely in his pack.

"Do you know where Fenris went to meet his sister?" Zevran asked with a tired sigh. Isabela raised a brow at him, but he spotted a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she nodded towards the main street.

"The Hanged Man, of course. Come on, let's go before you change your mind."

…

Varania avoided looking directly at her brother as Danarius began to lead Fenris out of the seedy inn. The look Fenris had given his friend was heart breaking to watch. She had heard how Hawke had befriended her brother and even offered to help him kill the magister. She, too, secretly wished Danarius could be killed, but there was no other way. She needed to survive in this harsh world and becoming a magister would insure she never had to worry about scraping enough coin together to eat for the day. One day, Varania hoped, she would be able to free Leto from the chains that bound him. Until then, however, this was the best thing for him.

"How could you, Hawke?" Merrill said, her voice rising in panic as she saw Fenris so easily give in to his forced captivity. Anders turned to quiet her just as a familiar voice rang through the inn.

"You boys aren't even going to stay to have a pint? Shame, I was hoping for some company." Isabela said, appearing in the open doorway of the Hanged Man. She leaned casually on the frame appearing to clean her nails with one of her daggers. Fenris glanced at her in surprise as behind him Danarius's face began to splotch as he turned red glaring at the scantily dressed woman.

"Hawke, what is the meaning of this? You said no one knew we would be here!"

"I'm sorry, Magister, just let me-" Hawke began, but was cut off by a scream. As one everyone's head turned to see what the noise was about just as one of Danarius's men fell down the stairs. Standing at the top silhouetted against the pale light was a figure with a dagger in his hand, dripping with fresh blood as he clucked his tongue.

"Shame on you, Hawke. We help our friends, not enslave them." Zevran said with a sigh as if Hawke were a wayward child. Hawke's face went pale as he raised his staff, magic surging to his fingertips. He let out a shout and fire shot from the end of his staff towards the golden haired elf. Fenris felt his heart skip a beat, panicking that Zevran would meet an early demise.

The entire time he had known the elf, Fenris had forgotten one thing. Zevran was an assassin, and a former Antivan Crow. One moment the tanned elf was there, the next moment the stairs were scorched and smoking from the wave of flame. In the next instant, two more of Danarius's guards went down clutching their throats futilely, their fingers slick with blood as it poured from their gaping wounds.

Danarius let out a shout, ordering his guards to take down to the two new fighters. All at once the place erupted into chaos, Hawke and Anders trying to subdue the two without killing. Merrill as well began casting spells managing to freeze a guard who had been standing next to Fenris. Letting out a war cry Fenris activated his markings, drawing Mercy to cut down any who dared to try and subdue him.

He didn't hesitate to cut a path towards Zevran who was expertly dodging any blow aimed his way. It was almost as if the assassin were dancing as he easily slipped behind a guard and seemed bored as he stabbed the assailant in the back of the neck. Fenris smirked, turning his attention on another guard foolish enough to challenge him who quickly went down in a fountain of his own blood. Behind him he felt a slight pressure to his back and Zevran moved to press his back to his.

"I told you to wait at the mansion did I not?" Fenris growled, lowering Mercy in favor of driving his fist through the chest of another guard. The man began to choke and sputter going down with a gasp as his heart was crushed. Zevran snorted, expertly whirling a knife around and throwing it, bringing down another man who clawed at the knife now protruding from his eye socket.

"So you did, but I've been told I'm very bad at taking orders. You should have tied me to the bed like you did the first time, no? Tis so boring without someone to share it with, Lord Fenris." Zevran answered. The assassin ducked underneath Fenris's arm to slash at the legs of another guard whirling an axe above his head. Before the man could attack, he fell to his knees a shocked expression on his face as his newly cut tendons in his legs gave out. Fenris jammed a glowing fist through the man's skull causing blood to stream out of an open mouth as the man fell back into the fray, dead. He stepped into the open space feeling Zevran fall back into step behind him in synchronized step.

"Do you truly mean that? Or are you referring to how I left you unsatisfied earlier on the table?"

"On the contrary, returning to a warm body desiring your touch? Quite a meal to consume by one's self if I'm not mistaken." Zevran purred, without missing a beat. Fenris jerked around to stare at the assassin, ignoring a near miss to his head by a wayward sword. Zevran narrowed his eyes in annoyance, reaching out to stab his dagger into the man's throat with a flick of his wrist. Wrenching it free as the attacker went down dead before he hit the ground.

"Really? At a time like this?" Fenris hissed into his new lover's pointed ear as he stepped past him to take down another foe. A low chuckle was his answer as they traded positions.

"Yes, really." A teasing voice answered, clearly amused by the darker elf.

Fenris was distracted when it happened. He didn't see as both Hawke and Danarius raised their hands, completely unaware of one another. He had begun to turn to tell Zevran to go back up the stairs, to leave through the back to find Varric to help them flee the city. Fenris did see as each mage cast a different spell completely unaware the other had cast at the same time. Saw twin bolts of energy hit Zevran square in the chest, flinging him across the room to hit the far wall. Zevran's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open as if he meant to utter a cry of surprise or make a joke. Fenris felt the thin snap of a chain as Zevran's necklace caught on the edge of his armor as the smaller elf was thrown back away from his side.

"Be careful! You almost hit him!"

"I was trying to subdue him for you! Your attack hit the other elf just as mine did!" Hawke snarled back at Danarius. Fenris turned around as if in a dream to face his long standing comrade. Memories of fighting at Hawke's side, of pulling him back from the brink of destroying himself when the mage ventured to far into battle. No one but Fenris knew how Hawke lost himself in casting his spells. How the blood lust of battle pounded through his veins to blind him to any dangers around him.

Fenris went for Hawke first. The mage glanced almost casually in his direction, alarm not yet apparent in his features. It was almost like every other time when Fenris would walk up to his old friend, grab him by the shoulder and fling him back towards Anders. Screaming profanities for the foolish man to be aware of his surroundings and to stay back where it was safe to cast. It wasn't until he was almost upon him, tattoos shimmering to life that Hawke began to try and retreat.

Fenris slashed out his metal gauntlets wicked claws as he aimed for Hawke's heart. Anders had reached out, grabbing the mage by the back of his robes and yanking him back with a sharp cry of alarm. Hawke began to fall back just as Fenris's hand disappeared into his chest near his heart. Hawke's entire body arched with the pain, a scream of agony ripping from his throat as he fell back on top of the blond mage behind him. Anders and Hawke fell, sprawled across the floor, Hawke gasping and clawing at his chest as if he couldn't breathe. Anders underneath him clawing for purchase as he tried to get back on his feet to protect them both.

Fenris kicked Hawke in the ribs for good measure watching with mixed feelings as the man curled up on himself turning away from him. Anders sputtered still trying to push himself up. Fenris hefted his sword up, hesitating as he saw shuddering breaths rack through the mage's body. His instincts screamed for him to turn his back and to protect the mage. To forgive Hawke betraying him and allow him to rise once again to help him.

"I enjoyed fighting at your side. Next time we meet, Hawke, I will not nick your heart but tear it from your chest and devour it." Fenris said, not recognizing the snarl in his own voice. With that, he turned his back to the mage, focusing on Danarius.

Varania cowered near the stairs, her hand covering her mouth in horror as Fenris turned on the magister. Danarius's eyes flickered in the direction of his former slave, seeming to register the fact that all of his men were either dead or dying around him. His eyes glanced at the curled heap of Hawke, Anders bent over him hands glowing blue as he desperately tried to heal the damage Fenris had caused to his heart. Merrill stood only a few feet away, hands raised threateningly eyes narrowed ready to tear the mage down should he rise again. At her side was Isabela, daggers at her sides but watching Danarius with a wary eye should he choose to intervene.

"You're outnumbered, Danarius." Fenris snarled beginning to draw closer to his former master. He salivated at the thought of tearing out the magister's heart imagining the delicate muscle easily giving away as he wrapped his fist around it and crushed it.

_Fenris._

At first he thought it was only his imagination. A voice echoing in his head from some distant memory in his past as he reached for his vengeance. Only the suddenly confused looks of Isabela, Merrill, and Danarius looking for the source of the voice did it occur to him they were all hearing things.

_Zevran is dying._

Fenris heeded the voice this time, remembering Zevran stepping into the path of the spells. He spun on his heel cursing the foolish assassin for _protecting_ him when he should have ducked. Zevran lay on the floor, a sluggish stream of blood running down his temple from connecting with the wall. His dagger lay a few feet away from his hand forgotten eyes closed as if asleep. Fenris rushed to his side, kneeling just as he saw the shallow rise and fall of the assassin's chest stop. Shock warred with grief as he reached down with shaking hands to brush away a strand of hair on Zevran's cheek.

"I'm sorry. I was too late." Fenris whispered to the corpse. His throat began to close up and he choked unsure of what to do.

_You bastard!_

The voice seemed to rip through the entire room. Zevran's broken necklace began to tremble as above a black figure seemed to appear taking shape as it came forward taking on a physical form as it broke away.

"Magic is meant to serve man, not rule over him." Said a cool, familiar voice Fenris couldn't place. He raised his head and stared in open astonishment as a blue eyed elven mage appeared to materialize out of thin air.

The small elf wasn't alone as a crow with grey eyes perched on his shoulder. The crow was beautiful with shimmering feathers as she cawed, fixing one of her fierce eyes on the dark elf kneeling next to the newly dead corpse. The elf turned his head to glance at the still form nodding to his companion as he did so.

"Make sure he doesn't pass on yet, Rinna. I have to deal with Danarius before I can help Zevy." The mage said to his companion. The crow cawed in answer, spreading its wings and gliding over to the Fenris and Zevran. Fenris didn't know why he wasn't alarmed as the crow hopped onto Zevran's still chest and seemed to study him for a few moments.

Rinna, the name of the crow, seemed to preen her feathers before she settled down on the assassin's chest. Fluffing her feathers as she folded her feet beneath her as if to make herself comfortable as she guarded Zevran. Fenris felt a shudder go through his body as if a soul had just been trapped. Glancing at the crow he thought this must be true. Rinna was preventing Zevran's soul from moving on into the Fade as her companion, the elven mage, turned his attention to Danarius.

"You should have never come here. Now you've made a sister go against her own brother, and you still expect mercy?" The mage asked, his voice ringing throughout the room. Merrill and Isabela were staring with twin expressions of confusion and alarm. Anders as well had fallen silent to stare at this newcomer, his staff drawn up protectively ready to defend himself and Hawke. The blond healer's hands trembled as he stood there poised for action. Anders was no fighter, his skills leading more towards healing rather than the actual fight itself.

"Another knife ear then, is it? A fine trick you did there, little one, but you won't have me quivering in my boots like you do the others. Join me and I shall make you a _Grand_ Magister of the Tevinter Imperium. Such a trick as that will work in your favor were you to use in in the Imperium." Danarius said, motioning for the mage to join him. The blue eyed mage shifted his gaze to Fenris who stared stolidly back at him. They flickered with recognition recognizing him, but making no attempt to voice this discovery.

"I could be polite and say I appreciate the offer, but that would be lying. I never had a desire to possess power nor to rule over other people's lives. So, no, I don't want to be a magister. Grand or otherwise." The elven mage said casually. Danarius seemed at a loss for this, his face flickering with confusion then rage as he glanced at Varania for help. The woman cowered near the stairs frozen in place by fear as she stared at the mage with a look of horror.

_Howl?_

Zevran's voice echoed in the room. It sounded distant and groggy, as if he were coming out of a deep sleep. Alarm crossed over the mage's face as he glanced at the body that now seemed to be shimmering. Fenris watched as Rinna the crow began to caw, rising up and flapping her wings cawing more as if agitated. It almost seemed as if she were fighting with something in order to keep it down. Alarmed he reached up to try and calm the crow as it continued to claw and flap at the air.

The crow snapped at his fingers, fluttering off of the body and beginning to transform. Black feathers slid back into creamy white skin, hardening to leather armor similar to Zevran's. The grey eyes remained the same as red hair and pointed ears framed a beautiful but mischievous face. Her lips were naturally pouted as if she had just been told she could not have a piece of jewelry she had wanted. She now knelt on the other side of Zevran's body, her hand on his chest as she glared at her companion.

"Howl, I can't hold him in much longer! I need something strong to bind his soul back to his body. DO IT!" She snapped at Howl, who narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Fenris felt a twinge in the back of his mind at the memory re-evaluating the mage before him. He didn't have on spectacles but…

"Howl? _Howl Arainai?_ The Hero of Ferelden?" Isabela said breathlessly her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Howl glanced at the pirate woman, raising a brow in turn, but nodding his head ever so slightly to indicate the obvious.

"Fine, you bloody woman. Danarius, since you have abused your gift of magic, have enslaved countless innocent, and have sacrificed those who met the Maker early, I hereby renounce your gift of magic." Howl declared, his voice ringing throughout the room.

Howl raised his hand and all at once Fenris saw bright red strands glowing in the air. They shimmered and weaved together twisting upon themselves in the open air. Howl reached up and grasped several of these threads in a firm grip and gave them a firm yank. Across from him Danarius's body convulsed a scream rising from his throat as Howl continued to pull. All at once the smell of rotten flesh filled the room as a glowing ball seeming to boil with blood flew from the magister's chest into Howl's hands. Howl hissed as he caught it in both hands dropping his staff as he did so. Danarius gasped reaching up to clutch his chest as he stared at the ball with a look of horror.

"_Howl_." Rinna hissed her eyes wide with panic. After a moment she seemed to finally notice Fenris kneeling on the other side of Zevran. She glared at him with renewed determination as if he had just insulted her.

"What do you think you're doing?" She snapped at him. Fenris blinked in astonishment, unable to think of a good comeback despite the dire situation.

"Me?" He said stupidly for lack of anything better to say. Rinna rolled her eyes in exasperation, reaching out and grabbing his hand, firmly placing it on Zevran's still chest.

"Yes, you! The least you could do is help me keep his soul in place with those markings of yours! Would make it a hell of a lot easier, or do you want Zev to go to an early grave?" Rinna snarled. Fenris blinked, glancing down at Zevran's still form. The golden haired elf's eyes were closed but he saw no signs of life. His cheeks were pale beneath the tanned skin sporting none of the color he had had in life.

"How do I do that?" Fenris asked Rinna stupidly. Rinna scolded him, glaring at him as if he were an idiot.

"How do you breathe?" She mockingly answered him. Fenris huffed, feeling his blood boil as he glanced down at Zevran. Hesitantly, he activated his markings feeling their slight burn as they began to glow. As they came to life he felt something stir beneath his palm. He almost jerked in his hand away in surprise when he realized it wasn't a heart he felt pushing against his hand. Rather, it felt warm and pulsing beneath a delicate membrane as if it were trying to break out. It could almost be a child kicking in its mother's womb eager to be born. Here, Fenris's hand only rested on the surface of Zevran's armor but he almost thought he could _feel _him in that pulsing presence.

"See?" Rinna whispered her eyes sparkling. Fenris glanced at her then back down at his hand gently pushing down on the struggling presence. It quivered beneath his hands trying to rise but he wouldn't allow it.

"Is that…?" Fenris asked despite himself. Rinna nodded, her eyes softening as she glanced down at assassin. Were those tears he saw coming down her face?

"Yes, it's him. The fool, always trying to do everything by himself. He thinks he needs to protect those he loves, but in reality he's the one that needs protecting." Rinna said quietly.

Fenris felt his heart go out to her, secretly agreeing with what she said. Zevran did seem delicate at times as if he needed a person to step in and shield his heart. He glanced at Howl who now approached them, lightly juggling the glowing red toxic energy in his hands as he glanced at Rinna for help. Noticing her companion was back, she rose from the body leaving Fenris with the task to keep the soul in place.

"Here, I can handle this next part." Rinna said, gently reaching up to draw one of her daggers. Fenris noticed it was a gleaming Crow Dagger, an exact replica of Zevran's, if only newer in appearance.

Rinna slashed at the ball of energy, cutting through the foulness. There was a sudden rush and the corruption began to drip away, melting the wooden floor where it hit. Rising from the dark energy seemed to be soap bubbles all shimmering with different colors as they rose up. Howl paid no heed to them as he appeared to brush the rest of the poisonous red away leaving behind a glowing ball of white energy.

Reaching up, Howl clapped his hands together the ball of energy between. Then, slowly, ever so slowly began to spread his arms. He seemed to stretch the energy as Rinna reached out and grasped the edges of it stepping back and away from them. Soon, they appeared to having a glowing white blanket between them roughly the size of Zevran's body. Nodding to the mage they stepped carefully so they held the shimmering blanket above Zevran's body. Fenris shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do. The pulsing underneath his hand had become more erratic and stronger as the soul tried to shove its way past.

"Move, Fenris. After this next part we need to move fast. Understand?" Rinna said to the dark elf. Fenris nodded, getting his feet underneath him, ready to move out of the way.

"On the count of three, then." Howl said his voice quivering in the still air.

"One, two, THREE!"

Fenris dodged out of the way as Howl and Rinna shoved the shimmering blanket down at the same time. For a moment Zevran's soul appeared to break away from his body. Rising eagerly from his chest into the air before being trapped beneath the blanket. In a flash both blanket and soul disappeared altogether in a bright flash.

"Nothing happened." Fenris said in dismay. Howl and Rinna glanced at him as the elven mage waved him, over reaching out to grasp his hand.

"Now Fenris, do you want Zev to come back?" Howl asked seriously. Fenris glanced at the mage, for the first time locking gazes with him. It had been so long ago, he had nearly forgotten the mage. All he had remembered were the pale blue eyes only because they were the same color as Danarius's. However, they held none of the coldness or cruelty his former master had.

"Of course!" Fenris snapped, desperate to help. Howl nodded, glancing down at the still form. Zevran had still not woken up or showed any signs of life.

"Now the only part is to pull Zevy back from the brink. This is where you come in. You need to reach into his chest and pump his heart for him to get the blood flowing once more. Or else he'll just die again, and permanently this time." Howl said seriously. Fenris stared at Howl in horror, then at Rinna who was watching him with the same mixture of seriousness.

"Why can't you do it? I could crush his heart!" Fenris growled at the both of them. Rinna's eyes became sad as she exchanged a look with Howl, who just nodded in consent.

"We're dead, me and Howl. The only thing we can do is to either hurry along someone's passing or to hold it off long enough to buy a person enough time for help to come. The dead can't resurrect the living." Rinna said with a shrug of her shoulders. Fenris glanced down at Zevran, once again imagining the elf dying.

They had only spent a month together, but in that time he had come to care for Zevran. They had become…close to say the least. It was true they had much in common and yet they were so vastly different. With a shaking hand, he activated his markings once more. Fenris hesitated for a moment, then removed his metal gauntlets, letting them drop with a clatter to the floor.

With trembling hands he reached into Zevran's chest. He felt the slight damp as his hand brushed vital organs and the hardness as he passed bone. Then he reached the heart, the muscle slack in the still body. Wrapping his fingers around it, Fenris gave it the lightest of touches. Gently squeezing the heart and feeling the blood move sluggishly through the veins. He squeezed again, and again, trying to get the heart to awaken. Then after a minute of pumping the heart he felt the smallest of shudders in the muscle as if quivered as if about to start pumping of its own accord then failing.

"It moved!" Fenris said, almost losing his grasp on the heart. He had to re-adjust himself to keep from falling on top of Zevran. Rinna and Howl exchanged another glance, then the red haired woman glanced back Fenris her expression serious.

"It's not enough. You're going to have to do more." Rinna said. Fenris glanced at her, panic rising in his chest as he continued to work Zevran's heart.

"What is it? I'll do anything!" Fenris said losing himself in the movement. Lips trembling as if she were about to cry eyes shiny with unshed tears she looked back down at the body.

"You have to breathe air back into his lungs. The air he has now has gone stale, his heart needs fresh air or else you'll lose him for good." Rinna instructed him.

Fenris didn't wait to question her on this note. He was desperate; he was close to waking the assassin up. Without pause he leaned down and breathed a puff of air into Zevran's slack body. He felt the lungs inflate then the air stale air leave in a rush. Zevran's lips felt clammy and cold against his own, revolting under different circumstances but he didn't care. He continued to breathe into Zevran and pump his heart becoming ever more frantic when he got no response.

_It's almost as if I'm kissing him_, Fenris thought morbidly continuing the work the heart in his hand.

Then, he felt it again. The heart shuddered and suddenly burst to life beating rapidly as it took in the new air. Fenris withdrew his hand his lips still over Zevran's from his last breath. Before he could pull back and hand reached up and slipped around his neck pulling him into a deeper, passionate embrace.

A warm tongue tasting of honey and cinnamon entered into his mouth, pulling him in. Fenris was too shocked and surprised to fight back as his mouth continued to be plundered. He heard a soft sigh beneath him as the body shifted and rose, continuing to make out with him. After a few shocked moments, Fenris broke the kiss pulling back.

Zevran's hair was disheveled as he gave Fenris a sleepy look. Seeing the shocked expression on his partner's face, he gave him a lecherous grin. Zevran had propped himself up against the wall and now reached up, cracking his neck with a tired sigh as everyone continued to stare at the two elves. Even Danarius seemed at a loss for words at seeing someone being brought back from the dead. Looking around the room Zevran looked confused since having woken up. Fenris noticed Howl and Rinna had disappeared and wondered distantly where they had gone. Finally, Zevran focused on Fenris as if noticing him for the first time.

"Not that I don't appreciate being molested in my sleep, Lord Fenris. But don't you think this is the wrong time and place to duel with our tongues rather than taking down your enemy?" Zevran asked.


	38. Epilogue

**Chapter 38**

A wave of sea breeze blew into his face, lifting strands of snowy hair away from his face. He sighed, taking a deep breath of fresh air as the boat lurched rising and falling with the waves. His stomach felt unsettled and he wondered if he would throw up again. They were only a few days out to sea, but he still hadn't gotten his "sea legs" as Isabela called them. Just the thought of lunch made the bile rise in the back of his throat again and he choked for a moment, not wanting to throw up once more.

"You're still out here? I thought you would have gone back to lay down after all this." Said a familiar voice from behind him. He turned around and saw the Antivan approaching him, blond hair blowing in the wind. Dressed in a loose shirt and trousers, Zevran could have passed for a spoiled pet of some rich noble. As it were, Zevran was the spoiled "assassin" of one Fenris whom didn't feel like dealing with his lover at the moment.

"Maybe I would have if there weren't a certain something in my cabin that refuses to let me rest." Fenris snapped irritably. His heart quickened, however, when Zevran came close to him, reaching up to brush a hand along his bare arm. After much debate and arguing, Fenris had reluctantly began to leave his armor and weapon in the cabin. Isabela and Zevran both insisted he looked more fearsome without this added amenities, pointing out how the crew stirred clear of him whenever he came out on deck. Fenris suspected it just a ploy to make him naked from the waist up, seeing as suddenly there were no shirts available in his size leaving him to wear nothing but black trousers while on deck.

"Oh? Is there something in our cabin that perhaps needs assassinating? I can help you with that. I'm quite good at it." Zevran purred, batting his eyelashes at the dark elf. Fenris scowled at the feminine gesture, causing the assassin to laugh at him.

"No, but I could perhaps throw it overboard and watch it drown. I'll certainly get some rest then." Fenris growled. Zevran raised an inquisitive brow, tilting his head innocently to the side as if he had no idea what he meant.

"I merely wish to enjoy your company when we are together. Is this so bad? You are so busy now a days I only thought-"

"I went to eat breakfast! Not to mention I had to fetch yours since you were still asleep. I was hardly gone for five minutes how is that busy?"

"But my dear Lord Fenris! Those five minutes felt as if they were five lifetimes to me! So when you walked in through the door, I could not control the sudden desire to throw myself at you in a fit of passion. The loss of our breakfast was unfortunate but-

"Zevran."

"Oh, how you screamed when I gave you that first kiss! Did I ever tell how much I like it when you take me with all your armor on? How your face flushes when a fit of rage falls upon you? In Antiva, we have a saying that an angered man is well endowed due to his swollen-"

"Zev."

"Hush, let me finish. I had at first thought this nothing more than a theory. But upon seeing it to actual use…OH! The pleasure and the way you simply continued to thrust your-"

"ZEVRAN!"

"Yes?"

"I love you." Fenris said tossing the phrase out there. He hadn't even thought of it as he said it, the words simply flying from his lips. Zevran stopped altogether, a look of surprise crossing his face as he stared at the former Tevinter slave.

After Zevran had come back to life, Fenris had killed Danarius. It had almost been a mercy since the magister no longer had his magical gift. Anders had fled in the wake of Zevran's resurrection with Hawke probably thinking Fenris would come after him for revenge. Fenris had considered it, even imagined tearing Hawke's still beating heart from his chest as he had promised. But, in the end, he had let both mages go.

He knew why Hawke had done what he did. It didn't mean Fenris forgave him, not by a long shot, but he did understand what it was to love someone. Besides, it hadn't been truly Hawke's fault. Hawke had let himself be swayed by Anders who had convinced him Fenris was unfit to be out in the world. If anything, Hawke had thought he had been helping his close friend. Fenris wondered if perhaps on some level the Champion had been right to try and give him back to his former master. The entire time they had known each other Fenris had always felt bound by his own fetters due to his markings.

Varania had given him the truth though. He had competed for the markings and wanted them. Everything he had thought he had known had shattered his entire world except for one fixed point.

Zevran.

Isabela had helped him to take Zevran to her ship which was at dock. It took a harried hour to get the crew together and then to cast off. Two nights after they had left Kirkwall there had been a bright beam of light from the direction of the city. Zevran had stared at it with a fixated gaze as if reliving a memory. When Fenris had asked him if he were okay the assassin had only said the bright beam of light reminded him of the irony of life.

"I had a dream last night." Zevran said suddenly. Fenris jumped as he was pulled away from his thoughts. He glanced at the former Crow who was gazing out at sea. He made no move to acknowledge what his partner had just confessed to him.

"Oh? What about?" Fenris asked, curious despite himself. Zevran closed his eyes and sighed, shaking head his head as he answered.

"Howl." Zevran said quietly. Fenris's eyes softened, he reached out and gently covered Zevran's hand with his own. He had never noticed how much smaller the elf seemed at times compared to him.

"Another nightmare?" Fenris asked quietly. A small grin twitched at the corner of Zevran's mouth as he shook his head.

"No, it was a good dream actually. We were somewhere in the Fade, I don't know where. Rinna was there with Howl and the two were talking. When I showed up they both stopped and stared at me. Rinna demanded to know what I was doing there."

"I was panicked because I thought she was angry with me still. That she was there to kill Howl in front of me for revenge. To my surprise she said she wasn't angry. Rinna told me…" Zevran said, his voice choking for a moment. Fenris moved closer wrapping his arm around the smaller elf's waist and pulling him close to his chest. Zevran resisted at first, hating to be coddled. After a moment though, he gave in, allowing himself to be held close to the dark warrior's chest.

"What did she say?" Fenris said quietly, whispering the question into his lover's ear. Zevran took a shuddering breath, swallowed, and continued, his voice becoming stronger as he spoke.

"Rinna said to me, 'I was never angry, Zev. I was crying because I knew how much it hurt you to think you had been betrayed.' I was shocked. I told her I was sorry but she said there was nothing to forgive. I had made a mistake and nothing more."

"Then Howl came up to me. He asked how was I doing, and if I were happy. I remembered crying, again, telling him I missed him. Why did he die? Did he know what would happen when he walked to the Archdemon?"

"Howl took one long look at me. At first he said nothing, then simply said, 'Give me your hand. I want to show you something.' So I did. When he took my hand he told me to look down at my right pinky finger and my left ankle. I did, and you know what I saw?" Zevran said. Fenris nuzzled Zevran's inhaling his scent as the other elf talked. He was completely relaxed in the morning light enjoying having the other so close.

"What did he say?"

"Each person in this world is born with two red threads of fate tied to them. The one on our pinky finger leads us to our true love. The one tied to our ankle leads us to someone who can change our life." Fenris held his breath, waiting for the blow to fall. He knew what was coming from a mile away.

"And?"

"I was connected to Howl by the ankle. I was connected to you _here_." Zevran said reaching up and touching Fenris's pinky finger.

For a moment Fenris was completely silent. He did not know what to say or how to express it. Only he turned Zevran around and tilted his chin up, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. It was a chaste kiss, one filled with promise and longing. When he pulled back, he saw Zevran's eyes were alight with hope as he grinned mischievously at the dark warrior.

"Seems I'm stuck with you for life, aren't I?" Fenris said with a sigh. Zevran laughed, wrapping an arm around his lover's neck and pulling him down for another kiss.

"What can I say, Lord Fenris? It takes an assassin's touch."


	39. Chapter 39

For anyone who loved Howl/Zevran please continue reading. This is very important, and who also may have been curious about Fenris/Darius as well.

I discontinued writing Warrior's Grace for various reasons. After Assassin's Touch I don't think the sequel to truly live up to the gravity Assassin's Touch had carried. To be quite honest after Howl died I really could not bring myself to continue writing it. Simply because I had put some much effort into Howl and Zevran's relationship to make the loss seem so real. At the time I finished the fic I was actually going through a lot of shit in my own life and felt like I had lost a good friend.

The reason Howl seemed so "real" to many of you, my reviewers, I think may have been for the fact that Howl was a mirror of my soul at the time. I won't go into details, but I always express my emotions at any given time onto the character's themselves. When people read my stories I want them to feel the pain, betrayal, and emotions the characters are feeling at the time. It's a bit hard to explain to be honest. But enough about me, back to the fics in question.

I quite honestly had a very good story planned for Fenris. I rarely, if ever, do "origin" stories. Telling what happened before the characters ever came into their present state. I had meant to do something quite similar with Fenris. He gives you so much but so little about his past. You know in general what happened, but none of the gritty details. I also wanted to reverse my decision on Howl dying, but not separate him from Zevran. So Fenris and Zevran would not be together in this new fic I'm planning.

I am revamping the story of Fenris and Darius. I'm taking the pieces I left behind and going all the way back to the beginning. I believe Fenris deserves to have his story told with the care and precision due to his character. He's very complex, and quite honestly I don't think Dragon Age 2 did him any great justice. I've read a handful of Fenris origin stories on this site as well. I didn't find them satisfying at all. While the concepts behind many of them were well intention, a few key points were always left out. Or the author only chose to express one part in a one-shot rather than go with the multi-chapter idea. Which is perfectly find in itself.

I'm not hating on my fellow fan fiction writers, understand. It's just my opinion, though I have no room to talk with some of the fics I've written. I feel that I owe it to the story I started to at least give it another go.

The new story will be called "Mage's Regret". It will be about Fenris, or rather "Leto" and how he came from slave, to the tattooed Fenris, to the on the runaway slave you all know and love. Zevran will not be paired with him at all in this series. I plan on keeping Howl alive, but I don't know at this point in time if Howl will be present in this fic. But I can assure you Zevran willl show up in the fic long before he left the Crows and his first true love died.

I do hope when I post the fic, which will be sometime this week since I'm quitting another project, and give it a try. ;p


	40. Chapter 40

I know I said I would be giving up on the sequel to Assassin's Touch, but I have decided to rewrite Warrior's Grace. Other than the first two chapters, the rest of the story starting from Chapter 3 has completely changed.

Darius will NOT be present in Warrior's Grace. I decided the original concept I had does not flow well with the previous fic. I know it has been over a year, but I do hope you all will give it a shot. And don't take Warrior's Grace for what it is at face value. Read in between the lines.

Sincerely,

Shezka Foxe


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